Taylor Made For Miami
by ParaCaerOuVoar
Summary: DISCONTINUED
1. Goodbye Hello

Thanks to Courtney for being someone to bounce ideas off. This fic is dedicated to her, as usual.

-_-

Planes roared overhead as she paid the cab driver and stood in front of Newark Airport, looking at the city. Her city. So many memories had been made here, hidden between the skyscrapers and apartment blocks. Clutching her suitcase in one hand and her carry on luggage in the other, she turned and said good bye to everything. Her home, her life, her family. New York was all she knew, and leaving was truly stepping into uncharted waters.

So many memories, but that one memory was following her, choking all other memories, choking them like smoke chokes a young tree, engulfing it in darkness and death. She blinked away tears that threatened to fall, bringing a never ending stream of sadness.

She checked her watch. 10:51. She had nine minutes to check in and board her flight. Reaching into her pocket and puling out an orange iPod, she clicked the stop button, and The Script were silenced, never to play again. Not to her, not in this city.

Leaving was a lonely thing to do, especially when your best friends were busy looking after their pregnant girlfriend or working a homicide in The Bronx. She knew Danny would be here if he could, but Lindsay was using some dirty tricks to keep him on a short leash. Threats of not being able to see his child did a lot to a man to whom family was so important.

She checked her watch again as she walked into the airport, turning for one last glimpse of New York from the ground level, and pushed all thoughts of Danny Messer from her mind, replacing them with names of the people she would be working with, and pictures of her new home.

The check-in rushed past as she was plagued with visions of her new life, her new job. Would she find a home here, like she had in New York? She would only find out by going. Taking her seat on the plane, she blocked out the air hostess babbling on about safety measures and stared aimlessly out of the window. Taking her last look at the city she had grown up in, had made herself a family and a life and she knew that she would never return.

Taylor Mason was leaving New York and going to Miami. But what would she find there?

-_-

You can learn more about Taylor in my fic Soundtrack To Life, over in the New York thread, and the second chapter will follow sometime around New Year. I hope you like it.


	2. Of Jetlag And Fishbowls

Thanks to my reviewers : night-star-93, JustMeForNow and Delko'sGirl88.

Dedicated, as always, to Courtney and Alex.

-_-

Taylor stepped onto the busy Miami street surrounding the airport, wishing she'd packed her sunglasses in her hand luggage. She glared at the blue sky and blazing sun. It was the middle of December, and there wasn't a snowflake in sight. She shrugged off her jacket, folding it into her backpack and rolled the sleeves of her light cable-knit sweater up. Thin metal bangles clanked gently on her wrist, falling down her slim lightly tanned arm as she lifted her hands to twist her hair into a messy ponytail, keeping it out of her face. Glancing around her she saw a tall handsome Cuban looking curiously at her, while his eyes flicked back down at a photo. She watched him as his eyes flashed up and down a few more times, before deciding to come over and talk to her.

'Taylor Mason?' When she nodded warily, he grinned, revealing small even white teeth. 'Eric Delko, Miami Dade Crime Lab. Horatio sent me to make sure you get to your new home safely. He sends his apologies that he couldn't be here himself, but there was a body found in the Everglades. Some alligators are so inconsiderate sometimes.'

She smiled, relaxing slightly. 'Yeah, you'd think they could eat people when we don't have plans.' She joked, allowing him to take her suitcase and following him to a large silver Hummer. Pulling the keys out of his pocket, he unlocked the trunk and heaved her suitcase in, groaning theatrically. 'What the hell's in there, bricks?'

'My ex-boyfriend.' she said, smirking.

Eric raised an eyebrow, looking back at the suitcase, evidently deciding she was joking. 'Nah, a body wouldn't fit in there.'

'Not in one piece.' she countered, slinging her backpack in the trunk as well, before slamming the lid closed.

Eric laughed, a deep musical sound lifting her already high spirits. 'You'll fit right in here with a sense of humour like that.' The headlights flashed once as he unlocked the doors remotely, opening Taylor's for her.

'Good to see chivalry's not dead. Not yet anyway.' she said, climbing gracefully into the passenger seat.

'No, but just give it time. Wait till you meet some of the guys at the Lab.' He jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine, flicking the on-board computer on. 'You know the address of your new place?'

'No, but I have it in my pocket somewhere.' She wriggled in her seat, searching for the scrap of paper she'd copied her address onto. She pulled out her iPod and cell phone, leaving them in the drinks holder, along with countless sweet wrappers and shreds of paper, before finally extracting a tiny, folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, she squinted down at the messy writing. 'Uhhh… 17 Sunset Harbour Drive, Miami Beach. You know it?'

'Yeah, it's only about twenty minutes from here. Sit back, enjoy the sunshine.'

She took him at his word and relaxed, gazing out of the tinted window at the busy city going by. Miami was kinda like New York in that respect, except the roads were a lot emptier and drivers seemed to respect each other. Turning her phone on, she checked for messages, and rolled her eyes. She had six, one from each member of the team, excepting one. She listened to Danny's first.

'Hey Red, enjoying Miami so far? We just got another three inches of snow, with the promise of more to come. The new girls a right bitch as well, she spent the morning ordering Adam round like her own personal slave. Plus, I think she likes me, she keeps giving me the eyes. I gotta say Red; I'm a little freaked out. Uh-oh, I gotta go, here comes Lindsay. Call me when you get this message. Bye!'

Laughing at Danny constant presumption that he was God's gift to humanity, she listened to Flack's message, which ran in the same vein, moaning about the snow, convinced the new girl liked him, she finally got a name as well, Laura, insisting he called her when she got the message. 'Yeah, yeah, form an orderly queue,' she muttered, starting Hawkes' message.

'Hey Taylor, I'm really sorry I missed your going to the airport, but there was a body found in the Hudson at the last minute and Sid's off with flu and I had to do the autopsy **(1)**. Damn winter. Call me when you get a chance, and if you brag about the sun, I'm going to come down there and stuff a scalpel down your throat. OK, gotta go now, bye!'

Next was Mac's message. 'Taylor, don't forget that you start work on tomorrow now, not the Monday, their Lab is short staffed since Megan quit. Hope you had a good flight; call me when you get settled in. Bye!'

Adam's message was a little worrying. 'Taylor, don't take this the wrong way, but do we have any kind of lubricant in the lab, I seem to have got my hand stuff in a coffee pot. Please call soon, I can already hear the mocking comments of a certain homicide Detective. Oh, I hope your flight was OK. Ah-ha, found some butter, that should work. Well, call me when you get this, bye!'

Last was Stella's message. It was in Russian, it must involve Mac, and he must be listening. Those two had been dancing around each other since I arrived. I wish he'd hurry up and ask her out, or I was gonna do it for him. 'Эй, надейтесь, что Вы имели хороший полет, я не могу ждать, чтобы прибыть туда и видеть Вас. Предположение, какой? Макинтош спросил меня на обед! Призовите обратно меня, Вы должны помочь мне решать, что износиться, я запаниковал здесь!' _('Hey, hope you had a good flight, I can't wait to come out there and see you. Guess what? Mac asked me out for dinner! Call me back, you have to help me decide what to wear, I'm panicking here!')_

'Jeez, as soon as I leave, then they want me to call, I'm more popular now than I've been in seven years.' She muttered, glancing up as Eric swerved to avoid a kid with a soccer ball. The sun was just starting to set. They were heading down Sunset Harbour Drive now. It seemed like a nice place, just along the beach, it was mostly condos and villas, with the occasional apartment block. Her house was, according to the real estate agent 'a spacious two roomed villa located on the beach, ideal for a couple and a child.' Well, if she met a guy, then he could move in, but she highly doubted she would have kids. Kids made a relationship permanent, unless the guy is a jerk who gets you pregnant and then runs off, leaving you with his child in your body. The Hummer pulled up outside a large one floor house.

'Nice place.' commented Eric as he got out of the car, popping the trunk. 'How'd you afford a place like this on a CSI's salary?'

'I'm an escort on the side.' She winked at him as she dug through her backpack for the keys. She finally found them, after dumping a pile of stuff on the sidewalk. 'Bingo!' She stood up and began piling her stuff back into the back before unlocking the door to her new house.

Eric said nothing, just watched her go up the path to her house, eyes roaming over her curves, accentuated as they were in a skin tight jumper and pair of jeans, the heels on her expensive looking leather boots making her hips sway more than should be legal in his opinion as he followed her into the house, carrying the suitcase, not complaining, just enjoying the view.

Putting the suitcase down in the hall and shutting the door behind him, he looked around, seemed like a nice house, plenty big enough for Taylor plus one. Jumping at the sound of a high pitched squeal from somewhere in the house, he moved fast, fluidly un-holstering his gun and spinning round, assessing everything in a split second. Walking warily through the house in the direction, gun at the ready, he spun round the corner to find himself in a large, very white kitchen, while Taylor ran around excitedly, taking everything in, before shrieking 'Have you seen this kitchen? It's huge!'

Eric relaxed and holstered his weapon, mentally slapping himself upside the head for being a jumpy fool. 'I take it you like to cook?' he asked, thinking it best if she didn't notice his ears, which were flaming red, just like they always did when embarrassed.

'Yeah, 'cause it's different every time. All the different cultures, different flavours, I love all that. I was gonna travel when I graduated at the Academy, but I was headhunted by the NYPD Crime Lab, and I haven't missed a day off in seven years, which doesn't leave much time for vacation and I've never left New York before so this is all new to me and- and- I'm babbling aren't I?'

Eric nodded.

'Sorry, when I'm nervous or angry I have no filtering system and God knows what I say or do and I'm doing it again aren't I?'

'Yeah.' He laughed hesitantly, hoping it was the right reaction, sighing in relief when she laughed as well.

'Anyway, I'm being rude, would you like a drink? I would offer you a beer, but I don't have alcohol in my house.'

'Uh, sure, just water thanks. I don't drink while I'm on the clock anyway.'

'OK, one water coming up.' She turned to the sink, before turning back to him. 'I may have a problem. All my furniture and stuff isn't arriving until tomorrow.' She grinned sheepishly, heading to the fridge. 'Luckily, Horatio is much smarter than me and left me bottled water.' She took two bottles out, throwing one across the breakfast bar. Eric caught it deftly and unscrewed the top, swallowing half the water in one huge gulp.

'So, what's Miami like?' she asked, sitting down on a chrome bar-stool that sat by the marble topped breakfast bar.

Eric thought about it, sipping water pensively. 'Well, hot, for one,' he laughed, gesturing at the sun outside with his half filled water bottle. 'Seriously though, it's an incredible city. It's so busy and colourful, you can see things here you will never forget. Do you speak Spanish?'

'Among other languages.' she replied, gazing dreamily out the window at the setting sun, watching the waves lap lazily at the sand as the tide came in.

'A woman of many talents I see.'

'Wouldn't you like to know?' She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, her eyes still fixed on the beautiful scene before her.

So how many languages do you speak then?' Eric asked, glancing down at his pocket. His phone was vibrating, most likely dispatch with a nice new crime scene for him. He looked at the call ID. 'Speed' flashed across the screen in capitals. 'Hang on, hold that thought.'

He flipped open his clam shell cell, bringing it to his ear. 'What do you want Speedle?' he asked. Perfect timing, as always.

'Wanted to know whether you'd finished taxiing the new guy around yet? You want to go out for a drink?' His voice seemed unnaturally loud.

Eric rolled his eyes. 'OK, two things wrong there. First off, new _girl_, not guy, and I'm still on the clock for another hour. I'd love to, but tonight you'll have to find someone else to get pissed with. Maybe at the weekend. Yes, tomorrow I will be giving the new girl a lift to the Lab, she doesn't know where it is. No, you cannot torment her with your emo music.'

Taylor piped up suddenly, still watching the ocean. 'I like emo music.'

Eric glanced over to her. She seemed miles away, but was apparently capable of paying attention to his conversation and whatever she was watching. Another Calleigh in the lab. Him and Speed were never gonna get away with anything again. He turned his attention back to Seed, who was still talking away, unaware of the interruption. '-not promising anything, I might be quite happily listening to music in my trace lab and she might just happen to come in and be tormented by it and-'

'Speed, she likes emo music, your plan has been foiled.'

'…oh. OK, means I finally have someone who can listen to it without whining. And by the way, it's not emo music, it's called indie.'

'He's right, you know.' commented Taylor innocently, taking a sip of water.

'Hmm? Yeah, OK, I really gotta go Speed, yeah, see you tomorrow. Bye.' Eric sighed and flipped the cell shut. 'Well, that was a tiring conversation. Do you always listen in to people's conversations?'

'I do when they have them on speaker phone.'

'Oh.' Eric tried to save his pride by quickly changing the conversation. 'So, how many languages _do _you speak?'

She raised an eyebrow, finishing off her water and tossing the bottle of water into the small green box by the back door **(2)**.

'Nice shot.' said Eric, finishing his own bottle and making the shot as well.

'I could say the same to you. Anyway, to answer the question, eight, not counting English.'

'_Eight_?' If Eric had been drinking, he would have choked on his water.

'Yeah. French, German, Spanish, Italian, Greek, Russian, Japanese and Gaelic. I also understand Welsh, but I can't speak it to save my life. You pick up a lot in New York.' she said, by way of explanation.

Eric whistled. 'Impressive. Where do you find the time to learn?'

'I have an eidetic memory and insomnia. It's a lethal combo.'

'I'll bet.' He laughed and checking his watch, pulled a face. I better go; I have to check in with H before I'm off the clock. I'll come by tomorrow morning and pick you up. Half seven OK with you?'

'Sure. I'm gonna-' she was interrupted by a huge yawn. 'Head to bed, I'm shattered. See you in the morning.' She headed to the door.

'Night. Taylor?' She turned to look at him, her eyelids drooping already. 'It was good to meet you.'

'Good to meet you too.' she mumbled, and her eyelids slowly dropped until she was only standing because she was propped on the doorframe. Eric crossed the room silently and gathered her tiny frame up in his arms. Searching the house quickly and methodically, he found a living room with a large sofa in it. He guessed that was Horatio's doing, since none of her furniture had arrived yet. Laying her down on the sofa, he carefully took her boots off and covered her with the blanket draped on the arm, also most likely H's doing. 'Night Taylor,' he whispered snagging the keys off the kitchen bench and locking the door behind him, posting the keys through the mailbox.

-_-

Taylor groaned, and rolled over, cracking one eyelid open and shutting it immediately as the early morning sun flooded the room. The reason for her waking was her cell phone ringing in the other room. Sexy Back was blaring out at top volume. 'I'm gonna kill him.' she muttered, stretching and feeling her joints cracking. Stumbling through the house to the kitchen sleepily, she rescued the still ringing phone from its place and slid it open. 'Daniel Messer, you are a dead man.' she growled, slumping down on the stool she had occupied last night. She could hear laughter down the phone.

'Mornin' Red! Nice day down in the sunshine state?'

'It was until you called. Is Stella there?'

Yeah, why?' He sounded confused. Good.

'Repeat this to her after me. Stella.'

'Stella.' She heard Stella say 'what?' in the distance.

'Вкус Дэнни.' _(Smack Danny.)_

'Вкус Дэнни.' _(Smack Danny.)_

'Верх_.' (Upside.)_

'Верх_.' (Upside.)_

'Голова' _(The Head.)_

'Голова _(The Head.)_Ow!' he yelped. 'What the hell was that for?'

She could hear Stella laughing on the other end of the line. 'She told me to.'

'That's cold Red, real cold. Here I was being all friendly and you hit me.'

'Well, first of all, you knew I'd be jetlagged, did you really think you'd get away with ringing me at six in the morning? And another thing, technically Stella hit you, not me.'

'Jeez, you're cranky when you don't get your beauty sleep.'

Taylor was slowly waking up ad made a mental note to thank Horatio for a kettle and a coffee mug, along with the bag of high quality coffee she found in the fridge, next to a box of those nutrition bars she had grown addicted to. You never knew when you got to eat in her job. She grabbed a couple while waiting for the kettle to boil.

'Danny, put Stella on.'

'Fine.' he sulked and then there was an ear-splitting squeal. For all her dignity, Stella, like most women, was secretly a teenage girl crushing on some guy. Taylor winced and held the phone six inches from her ear until Stella had finished.

'You done?' she asked, bringing the phone back to her ear.

'You got the message?'

'Yes I did, I'm so happy for you. Before you ask, you should wear the green dress because it goes with your eyes, silver shoes and leave your hair down. Where's he taking you?'

'This place in Little Italy.'

'Who knows? Just so I don't blurt.'

'Just you, me, Mac and Sid.'

'Sid?'

'Yeah, apparently he put Mac up to it, it was so cute, it was like fourth grade al over again. God he was adorable, he turned all pink.'

'Like I said, I'm thrilled to bits for you, but should Danny be listening to this?'

'No, don't worry; once I started screaming, he was off like a rat up a drainpipe.'

'Why does that not surprise me?' Taylor laughed before catching sight of the clock. 'Stella, I love you and want to discuss this in full, but I don't have time, Eric is picking me up for work in half an hour.

'Ooh, who's Eric?' asked Stella, and Taylor could just picture the look on her face.

'He's another conversation for another time. 'I'll call you tonight and tell Danny the next time he messes with my ring tones I'll take my gun and decorate his apartment an interesting new colour called 'Hint of Brain.' **(3)**

'I'll be sure to pass the message along.' she said, and hung up.

Taylor had to forgo the coffee and jumped in the shower. She undid her hair from the ponytail and let the copper curls flow down her back, feeling the hot water massaging the knots in her body. Afterward she raided her suitcase for her hair dryer and an outfit. Chances were she'd be outside most of the day, so she settled for a pair of light green combat trousers and a white spaghetti strapped top with her beloved battered purple Doc Martens. They'd been through hell and back with her and she was going to wear them until they fell apart. She quickly dried her hair, but didn't have time to straighten it, so she left it loose and wavy. Examining the scars on her hand and shoulder, she idly debated covering them with make-up, for today at least, but was saved the trouble by a loud knock on the door. She went to open it, scooping up the keys from their place on the doormat. Briefly wondering how they got there, she unlocked the door to find Eric and two cups of coffee.

'You, are an angel.' she declared, taking the cup offered to her. 'Could you give me a sec?'

'Sure.' he said. 'I'll wait in the car.'

She rushed back into the kitchen, grabbing a sheet of paper and scribbling a quick note to Horatio. He had taken a rare day off work and was going to supervise the movers bringing in the furniture. She was perfectly happy to let him arrange it; he had impeccable taste when it came to interior design. She pinned it up on the corkboard and ran to the car, locking the door behind her.

He looked her up and down before giving a short laugh. 'We match.' he said, when she looked at him quizzically. Eric was wearing a white, short sleeved, button down shirt, slightly unbuttoned to show a generous amount of smooth tanned chest, and khaki coloured pants.

'Oh yeah.' She laughed. Caffeine had cheered her up no end and she kept up a steady steam of chatter all the way to the lab.

'What does your necklace say?' asked Eric suddenly, in a rare moment of silence. 'It's Japanese, right?'

She traced a fingertip down one strand. 'This means peace.' She traced the other, interwoven strand. 'And this means freedom. I believe that we can only have freedom when we are truly at peace.'

'That's pretty deep. You spend a lot of time being philosophical?'

'About three years ago, I had a lot of spare time to think. It was either that or scrabble with Danny, and he cheats.'

They pulled into the Crime Lab car park and got out. Eric threw his empty coffee cup in the bin and made his way towards the huge glass building in front of them. The stream of chatter slowed until there was silence, and then suddenly, 'Do you ever get the feeling you're working in a giant fishbowl?'

'Yeah, all the time.' joked Eric. 'Come on in and meet the team.'

_Here we go,_ she said to herself._ This is your new life._

-_-

**(1)** I know that this wouldn't actually happen, they have a whole team of ME's but it's my story so there.

**(2)** I don't know if you have this in the States, but in the UK, every house has a little green box and all the glass and paper and plastic and stuff goes into it for recycling.

**(3) **Name the TV show this joke comes from and win a puppy! (imaginary, sadly)

Well, I hope you liked it, I told you I would get a nice long chapter up before '09.


	3. Of Ducatis and Disenchanted

Thanks to my reviewers, night-star-93, JustMeForNow, Delko'sGirl88, MaryMagdelan

Dedicated to Courtney and Alex.

Italics are thoughts and/or song lyrics.

-_-

Eric and Taylor had just reached the door when she heard a familiar roar behind her. Turning, she saw a canary yellow Ducati skidding into a motorcycles only space, making a great deal of noise and attracting a lot of attention, from her anyway. She felt her jaw drop, and she almost ran over to the bike, crouching down to admire the custom decals.

'Wow, is this a '96 Ducati? I loved the design that year. What's it like to ride?'

She heard a deep laugh from inside the helmet as the mysterious driver unzipped his biker jacket and took it off. 'Yeah, it's a '96, and it's amazing to ride. How's a tiny little thing like you know all about bikes, anyway?'

She stood up to her full height, still a good four inches shorter than the helmeted man. 'It's not that small, and even if I were, you don't have to be lanky to ride a bike.'

'Yeah, but it helps if you can get on the bike without needing a box.' He laughed again and took his helmet off, running a hand down his face as the warm air hit it. 'Mornin' Delko.'

Eric nodded in greeting. 'Hey Speed. Going for the inconspicuous entrance for a change, I see.'

'You know it. This the new girl?'

'You know, I am right here.' She cut in, indignant, looking at "Speed" properly for the first time and losing all coherent thoughts.

He was tall, at least six foot, and had the muscle hardened physique of someone who spent a lot of time chasing perps. His thick curly brown hair was sticking out in all directions from the helmet, and she had a sudden urge to run her hands through it. He had five O'clock shadow, he had clearly forgotten to shave this morning, or just couldn't be bothered. He had broad features, but most striking were his eyes. They were dark chocolate brown, almost black and brooding. They seemed to suck her in, further and further until she was lost, and all she could see was brown. Drowning in twin orbs of chocolate would be quite a nice way to die, she mused, and then snapped back to reality as she realised that he was holding out his hand for her to shake.

She blinked a couple of times and then smiled, shaking the offered hand 'Sorry about that, I'm still jetlagged and my friend thought it would be funny to ring me at six in the morning and-' she broke off as Eric leaned in to whisper 'you're doing it again.'

She took a deep breath and started again. 'Hi. I'm Taylor. Taylor Mason. Nice to meet you.'

'Tim. Speedle. Call me Speed.'

'Ah. You're the one with the "emo music."'She made air quote with her fingers, before shooting a look at Eric. 'Some people wouldn't know good music if it bit them on the ass.'

Speed laughed properly this time as they walked into the building. 'Yeah, never ask Delko's opinion on music, all he listens to is that Cuban crap.'

'I hear you. Good cigars, bad music.'

Speed glanced at Eric over the top of her head. 'She's good; I think we'll keep her.'

'Alright, I'll tell H she passed the Speed test. Now get to work.'

'Yeah yeah I'm goin', I'm goin'.' He turned to leave, pulling an apple out of his pocket. 'Hey Tinks?'

Taylor turned to look; he obviously wasn't talking to Eric.

'Drop in and see me, I'll take you for lunch, show you a real gentleman.'

'There's one of those around? Where?' She craned her neck and looked around her frantically.

'Cute Tinks. I'll be in trace when you get bored of the Cuban charmer here.' He took a bite of the apple and turned down a corridor.

'Never gonna happen!' called Eric down the hall, but he'd already vanished into a room off the main corridor. 'I'd better take you to H, he'll want to say hi. You know each other from way back when, yeah?'

'Yeah, just as I joined the Crime Lab in New York, he was transferring to Miami. He never told me why. We were pretty tight for a while though. It was always me and him versus Mac Taylor and Stella Bonasera.'

'Wow. You worked with Mac Taylor?' Eric was in awe.

'Yeah, he was the one that hired me. Against department wishes, as well. He was behind me all the way, through all the crap the world threw at me.'

I'm actually jealous. The man's a legend. You couldn't put a word in for me with a transfer, could you?'

'Not leaving us I hope, Mr. Delko?' Eric leapt about a foot in the air at the sound of the soft voice behind them.

Taylor spun round and launched herself into the arms of Horatio Caine 'H-Man!' she squealed, hugging him with all her strength.'

'Good to see you again Taylor. I hope you had a good flight.'

'Yeah, it was OK, no turbulence, so that was good. How've you been and what are you wearing?' she unfolded him from her hug and looked him up and down. Instead of the crisp suits she was used to seeing him in, Horatio was wearing a pair of faded jeans and an old Ramones shirt and the ever present sunglasses perched on the top of his flame-red hair. 'You look like you used to in the good old days. Oh, and Mac sends his regards.'

Eric was still somewhat in shock from the double surprise of his silently moving boss, and then finding his boss in a pair of jeans. He knew Horatio had to own jeans, but it was still a shock.

'I only came in to make sure that your locker was sorted. And give you this.' He held out a gleaming badge, and she took it, taking note of the number, and clipping it to her belt. 4795. 'Eric will show you round, and Calleigh will give you your firearm since your firearms proficiency results were sent down from New York.'

Taylor grinned. Good old Mac.

'I'm gonna head to your house now, the movers are arriving soon I assume?'

'Nine.' she said, as Eric led her away. 'Can I have my gun now?' The last sentence was directed at Eric, and he rolled his eyes as he dragged her past the trace lab where My Chemical Romance was playing on the stereo in the corner. 'Ooh, I love this song, I've changed my mind, I want to see the Trace Lab. Please?' she fluttered her eyelids at him and dashed in when he let go of her arm.

She went straight to the stereo and turned the volume up. Speed looked up in surprise, smiling when he saw her. He looked at the door and smirked when he saw Eric standing in the doorway, nose wrinkled. He knew Delko hated My Chemical Romance, but apparently Taylor loved it. The music was too loud to hear, but he thought she was singing along.

_Well I was there on the day  
They sold the cause for the queen,  
And when the lights all went out  
We watched our lives on the screen.  
I hate the ending myself,  
But it started with an alright scene._

_It was the roar of the crowd  
That gave me heartache to sing  
It was a lie when they smiled  
And said, "You won't feel a thing"  
And as we ran from the cops  
We laughed so hard it would sting_

_What the hell, _he thought and joined in.

_If I'm so wrong (so wrong, so wrong)  
How can you listen all night  
long? (all night long, night  
long)  
And will it matter after I'm gone?  
Because you never learned a goddamned thing_

You're just a sad song  
With nothing to say  
About a life long wait for a hospital stay  
Well if you think that I'm wrong  
This never meant nothing to you

She gave him a huge grin and dived into the stack of CD's he kept on the table in the corner, occasionally pulling a face. The song finished and he turned it down to the point where it was just background noise and joined her at the CD's. 'You know, I thought you were kidding about the music, just to annoy Delko, I didn't realise you were serious.'

She gave him a sideways look and took the orange iPod out of her pocket, passing it over. 'I never kid about music.'

He clicked it on, scrolling through the artists. 'So I see.' he commented, inserting an earphone and pressing play. 'Very eclectic taste in music.'

'That's me. I have an eclectic taste in life. I'm not into stereotypes or labels like some people.' She shot another look at Eric, who had ventured into the Trace Lab and was flicking through a case file, looking very bored indeed.

'Hey.' She nudged Speed with her hip. 'Does that lunch offer still stand?'

'Sure. I'll be here all day, come by when you're hungry. Bored of Delko already?'

'No, just hoping for a ride on the Ducati.' She winked and left, Eric tossing the case file back on the examination table. Speed tried to give the iPod back, but she told him to keep it until lunch. 'Educate yourself. Where next?' she asked Eric, tapping her thumbs on the outside of her pockets.

'Uhh, how about A/V?'

'Sounds like fun.'

-_-

Tim Speedle was late for work. Grabbing an apple and shoving it in his pocket, he made his way into the garage, through assorted motorbike parts, snagging his bike jacket off the peg and his helmet off the table. He never used to wear them, but about a month ago, he had crashed his bike after skidding on an oil spill, and Horatio had stood at the end of the hospital bed and told him to wear them or next time he might not be so lucky. And he did, with great reluctance, and only when he was going to or from work or places H would be.

Zipping up the hated jacket and jamming the helmet on his head, he kick-started his pride-and-joy Ducati and screeched out of the garage and sped off down the road, enjoying the speed and the weightlessness he always felt when he rode his bike.

A siren flashed behind him and he swore under his breath, not that they'd hear him over the roar of the engine.

'Sir, can you step away from the vehicle and show me your license please?'

Speed grinned. His favourite traffic cop. He put the stand down and climbed off the bike, sliding the visor on his helmet up. 'Mornin' Wolf-man.'

'Oh, hey man, didn't know it was you. What's with the helmet and shit?'

He rolled his eyes, taking the helmet off. 'My boss doesn't want me turning into a smear on the road so soon after last month. Speaking of H, I'm already late for work, so if you don't mind, I'm off, lots to do and Eric's bringing in the new CSI today, so that should be fun.'

'OK, have fun with that, fancy a drink tonight, you, me, Eric and the new guy?'

'Girl.' corrected Speed, getting back on his bike and putting the helmet back on, but keeping the visor up.

'Ask her anyway, she might be hot.'

'That's what I'm hoping.' grinned Speed, as he accelerated away into the main flow of traffic, and reached the lab in no time. At the far end of the parking lot, near the entrance, he could see Eric and an unfamiliar face. This must be the new girl. Time for Speed test number one.

He twisted his throttle, listening to the engine growl beneath him, and let the power go. The bike shot forward and he twisted and turned artfully through the cars. Hitting the footbrake, he threw the steering left and skidded sideways into the space just behind the pair walking companionably together.

Hearing the engine, the girl spun round and her jaw literally dropped. She rushed over to him and crouched down, admiring the bike. What could he say, the girl had taste?

'Wow, is this a '96 Ducati? I loved the design that year. What's it like the ride?'

He couldn't help laughing at her enthusiasm, she was crouched there, babbling about bikes when she looked barely tall enough to be able to ride one. 'Yeah, it's a '96, and it's amazing to ride. How's a tiny little thing like you know all about bikes anyway?' He took his jacket off; it was baking in the early morning heat. He dreaded to think what it would be like at midday.

She pouted and drew herself up to her full height, still a lot shorter than him, even without his helmet. She was hot when she pouted, he noted. In fact, she was hot full stop. She wasn't stick thin like most of the women in Miami, she had curves and knew how to use them to her advantage. Her long coppery hair fell down her back, and her features were angular and pixie-like. Her eyes were sea green, and in them he could see her soul. She was hiding something from him, a dark secret, which was acceptable since he'd known her for all of thirty seconds. He remembered his earlier conversation with Wolfe, and his hope that she was hot. _Nice one, big man._ He sent his thanks to God, who was obviously on his side, for today at least.

'I'm not that small, and even I were, you don't have to be lanky to ride a bike.' She was clearly oblivious to his ogling, which meant he'd been a lot more subtle than he thought. He still had it.

'Yeah, but it helps if you can get on the bike without needing a box.' He laughed again and took off his helmet, revelling in the fresh air floating in from the ocean. He ran a hand down his tired face. _Damn! I forgot to shave!_ He cringed and hid it by greeting Eric. 'Mornin' Delko.'

'Hey Speed. Going for the inconspicuous entrance for a change, I see.'

'You know it. This the new girl?'

'You know, I am right here.' She cut in, sounding indignant.

He held his hand out for her to shake, and was confused when she blinked at it a couple of times, looking like she was miles away.

'Sorry about that, I'm still jetlagged and my friend thought it would be funny to ring me at six in the morning and-' she broke off as Eric leaned in to whisper 'you're doing it again.'

She took a deep breath and started again. 'Hi. I'm Taylor. Taylor Mason. Nice to meet you.'

'Tim. Speedle. Call me Speed.'

'Ah. You're the one with the "emo music."'She made air quote with her fingers, before shooting a look at Eric. 'Some people wouldn't know good music if it bit them on the ass.'

Speed laughed properly this time as they walked into the building. 'Yeah, never ask Delko's opinion on music, all he listens to is that Cuban crap.'

'I hear you. Good cigars, bad music.'

Speed glanced at Eric over the top of her head. 'She's good; I think we'll keep her.'

'Alright, I'll tell H she passed the Speed test. Now get to work.'

'Yeah yeah I'm goin', I'm goin'.' He turned to leave, pulling an apple out of his pocket. 'Hey Tinks?'

Taylor turned to look. That indignant look on her face again. He have to remember that the nickname touched a nerve, it could be fun.

'Drop in and see me, I'll take you for lunch, show you a real gentleman.'

'There's one of those around? Where?' She craned her neck and looked around her frantically.

'Cute Tinks. I'll be in trace when you get bored of the Cuban charmer here.' He took a bite of the apple and turned down a corridor, heading for the trace lab, the one place in the building where he had all control on what went in and out.

He headed in and threw his jacket and helmet in the locker in there. He would keep them in the locker room, but they didn't fit in his locker, and had been quite expensive; he didn't fancy them getting nicked, so he bought a bigger one for the trace lab, and he kept all his bulky stuff in it.

He slipped on his lab coat and rescued the evidence and case files from the evidence locker. He began by cataloguing everything, and checking it over the list in the case file. Satisfied everything was there, he started with the bloodstained fibres found in the vic's mouth. The case was a particularly grisly one, the woman had been found naked, bound and raped on the beach, it was the third one this month, with two the month before. It was a serial killer and he was accelerating. The only problem was, he wasn't leaving any fingerprints, and the team couldn't figure it out. They had one survivor, but she didn't see his face and according to her, he wasn't wearing gloves, but had touched stuff in the hotel room he lured her up to. They dusted every square inch of the room and didn't find a single print, so how was he doing it? He was interrupted from his musings by the sudden increase in volume of the stereo he had switched on upon entering the room, as always. He looked up and found Taylor rifling through his CD's, singing along to the music.

_Well I was there on the day  
They sold the cause for the queen,  
And when the lights all went out  
We watched our lives on the screen.  
I hate the ending myself,  
But it started with an alright scene._

_It was the roar of the crowd  
That gave me heartache to sing  
It was a lie when they smiled  
And said, "You won't feel a thing"  
And as we ran from the cops  
We laughed so hard it would sting_

_What the hell, _he thought and joined in.

_If I'm so wrong (so wrong, so wrong)  
How can you listen all night  
long? (all night long, night  
long)  
And will it matter after I'm gone?  
Because you never learned a goddamned thing_

You're just a sad song  
With nothing to say  
About a life long wait for a hospital stay  
Well if you think that I'm wrong  
This never meant nothing to you

She gave him a huge grin. The song finished and he turned it down to the point where it was just background noise and joined her at the CD's. 'You know, I thought you were kidding about the music, just to annoy Delko, I didn't realise you were serious.'

She gave him a sideways look and took the orange iPod out of her pocket, passing it over. 'I never kid about music.'

He clicked it on, scrolling through the artists. 'So I see.' he commented, stopping on Elliot Minor, inserting an earphone and pressing play. 'Very eclectic taste in music.'

'That's me. I have an eclectic taste in life. I'm not into stereotypes or labels like some people.' She shot another look at Eric, who had ventured into the Trace Lab and was flicking through a case file, looking very bored indeed.

'Hey.' She nudged Speed with her hip, causing him to redden slightly. 'Does that lunch offer still stand?'

'Sure. I'll be here all day, come by when you're hungry. Bored of Delko already?' he teased, still flicking through the iPod.

'No, just hoping for a ride on the Ducati.' She winked and left, Eric tossing the case file back on the examination table. Speed tried to give the iPod back, but she told him to keep it until lunch. 'Educate yourself.' Watching her leave, his eye was drawn to her shoulder, where there was a tattoo of a scarlet rose, its green tendrils curling around her shoulder blade.

He pointed the remote at the stereo, and turned it off. Taking another bite of the apple, he put the other headphone in and turned the volume up, setting it to shuffle.

He returned to his work on the fibre, but his mind kept drifting back to Taylor, and her sea green eyes floated in his imagination, their hypnotic stare reeling him in, keeping him captive. That was the kind of ocean he would happily swim in.

Now all he had to do was choose a restaurant, and find a spare helmet for her, which shouldn't be too hard, he was pretty sure there was one in the locker.

Finishing the apple, he made a shot for the bin on the other side of the room and missed. Scowling at the apple, he left his place by the microscope and moved over to the bin, stooping to pick up his discarded apple, and found a ball of paper, crumpled up tightly. Unscrewing it, he saw it was a flyer for this new restaurant down by South Beach. It had a slightly unimaginative title, but Calleigh had been recently and said the food was tasty and reasonably priced. Por el Mar it was.

-_-

Por el Mar is Spanish for by the sea, and it was the best I could come up with when I had a Courtney breathing down my neck.

By the way, the timeline for this is screwed up, the storylines are s1 for Miami and s5 for New York, we have Speed, but also Cooper, who never met Speed as far as I know.

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, it kind of spiralled out of control, I had planned for her to meet Cooper and Calleigh as well, but I think I'm gonna try and fit two people per chapter now, with Cooper and Calleigh next, but who should be after that? Choose from Tripp, Alexx, Stetler, Valera, Ryan and Yelina.


	4. Of Computer Cables And Flacks

Thanks to my reviewers night-star-93, JustMeForNow, Brown eyed Girl 75 and Delko'sGirl88

Dedicated, as always, to Courtney and Alex, and a new dedication, to Mark. You helped me through the hard times, and life without you wouldn't be worth living. I love all three of you.

A/N: Cooper is OOC in this, but I just couldn't give him a voice. Sorry peeps!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Taylor and baby Thomas people. The fantastic Sam Flack belongs to Brown eyed Girl 75!

-_-

Eric led her down another side corridor, and she thought in despair that she would never find her way around. It took her nearly two years to find her way around the New York Crime Lab with any confidence, but it paid off. She could find her way around blindfolded now, and she hoped it wouldn't take that long to find her way around here, she wasn't planning to be here that long. If she got her own way, she would be out of here in six months or less, and if not, then she had a plan.

'Here we are.' He said, shaking her out of her thoughts, and leading her into a room filled with many computers and monitors lining one wall. 'Cooper?' he called, the sound bouncing faintly off the black walls, and a head popped up from behind one of the computers, a torch jammed between his teeth. Eric quirked an eyebrow. 'Morning Coop, technical difficulties?' He smirked. It was a well known fact that Eric didn't like the cocky, perpetually happy "computer geek" as he had been dubbed, and Cooper didn't like Eric because of the nickname Coop, as in chicken coop.

Cooper threw a sarcastic glare at him, taking the torch out of his mouth. 'Yes, Ric, even computer geeks have problems. You come here for a reason, or just to get in my way?'

Taylor thought this would be a good place to cut in. 'Hi!' she exclaimed. 'I'm Taylor, the new CSI. Eric was showing me around, but I can see you're busy. Shall we come back later?'

'Or not at all.' muttered Eric, but Taylor elbowed him in the ribs, and he thought it would be wise to not say anything else.

Cooper visibly brightened, and fought his way out of the cables surrounding him. 'Dan Cooper, resident A/V tech. It's a much unappreciated art.' He held out his hand, and Taylor shook it, flashing him a winning smile.

'Taylor Mason, resident blood spatter analyst. It's a much unappreciated and messy art. What's the problem with the computer?'

'Oh, I uh, I wouldn't expect you to understand, not many people understand the finer points of computers.'

She grinned again, this time slightly forced, and there was a dangerous look in her eye. 'Try me.'

Even Cooper knew that look. 'Uh well, it's uh, the USB port has malfunctioned; I'm trying to weld a new applicator into it.'

'Well, in that case,' she stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over the table. 'You're using the wrong type of applicator. Green is USB, blue is printer cable port.' **(1)**

'Oh.' Cooper looked slightly shamefaced, and dived back into the mess of cables, torch at the ready. The sound of welding filled the room.

'Well, it was nice meeting you Cooper!' she called over the sound of the tiny blow torch, and a hand waved in response.

Out in the hall, Eric dissolved into laughter. 'The look on his face when you told him he was using the wrong colour applicator.'

'Leave him alone.' defended Taylor. She had liked the little blonde lab tech, despite the cockiness, she could sense that there was potential for a great friendship there, and her instincts were pretty good. 'The poor guy looked exhausted, like he'd been up all night.'

'Doesn't make him less of a jerk.' He yelped as Taylor hit him in the stomach playfully.

Can I have my gun now?' she asked, eager to change the subject before Eric got nasty.

He rolled his eyes. 'One track mind you. I need more coffee, the ballistics lab is down those stairs and turn left. I'll join you after I drown my lungs in liquid caffeine.'

'Yay!' She gave Eric one of her dazzling smiles, the kind that made him forget where he was when he was one the receiving end of one, from any woman, but especially a certain gorgeous blonde. She skipped down the corridor and down the stairs, humming a song Eric didn't recognise.

-_-

Calleigh was in a rare foul mood, so she was letting off some steam in the firing range. She didn't hear anyone come in, and when someone tapped her on the shoulder, she spun around and fired the gun.

Luckily it was empty, all the bullets had been fired, and she wasn't any less horrified when she saw a young auburn haired woman with a badge at her hip. She pulled off her protective glasses and ear defenders and started gabbling apologies. 'Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I was surprised and just acted on instinct.'

'It's OK, I'm fine, look, no harm no foul. The gun wasn't even loaded.'

'But if it had, I would have got you right between the eyes-'

'But you didn't, and it wasn't, so calm down. You must be Calleigh Duquesne.'

'That's me. And you are?'

'Taylor Mason, the new CSI. Horatio sent me down with Eric for my gun, but he's one AWOL. The man has a serious addiction.'

'Yeah, I know, he's on like twenty cups a day. You wanna know a secret though?' Taylor nodded. 'Apart from the first cup of the day, they're all decaf.'

'Really? Interesting.'

'Now then, let's talk weapons. You done your firearms proficiency exam in New York I see.' Calleigh tapped away at the laptop on the table in front of her. What gun did you have up there?'

'A Glock, 9mm, but I have a Smith and Wesson registered to my name as well for backup, I don't trust the department back-ups.'

'OK.' Calleigh said, sauntering over to the rack full of various guns. 'Here you go. Standard issue, but I customise all the guns, no two are the same.'

Taylor took the gun and expertly loaded it, grabbed the ear defenders and glasses and test fired it. The gun felt good in her hand, like it belonged there. 'I'll take it.' She said with a smile, just as Eric appeared, toting a half full cup of coffee.

'Enjoying your coffee?' asked Taylor innocently, and both women dissolved into giggles.

Eric looked at a complete loss as both women collapsed against the table, tears streaming down their faces. It as particularly funny, but Taylor's infectious good mood was having an effect on Calleigh, and she could feel her black mood floating away.

He stood there, waiting for the laughter to subside, and when it did, he raised his eyebrows in question.

'Long story.' said Calleigh as Taylor said 'Inside joke.' at the same time.

'O…k…' said Eric, finishing his coffee, ignoring the sniggers and tossing the cup in the bin. 'I'm not gonna ask.'

Calleigh turned to Taylor, ignoring Eric. 'So, you're from New York. What's it like there? I've always wanted to go.'

'It's a fantastic city, I couldn't think of a better place to live. It's so busy, and every day, something happens to surprise you. The diversity's amazing, and the food! Is there a deli In Miami that could deliver you a meatball and pepper sub at two in the morning?'

Calleigh laughed. 'Probably not.'

'Your accent is gorgeous. Whereabouts are you from? Texas?'

'Louisiana, originally. Never got rid of the accent. It can be quite irritating when most of the people you speak to have Spanish as their first language and can't understand a Southern twang to save their lives.'

'Tell me about it, I got a friend back home, who, the more drunk he gets, the broader his accent becomes, and he's from Queens. And trust me; he's got a pretty broad damn accent.'

Her phone rang, the sound of Nickelback's Hero coming from her pocket. 'Speak of the devil, so he shall appear.' She pulled the phone out and answered, putting him on speakerphone and holding a finger to her lips. 'I was just talking about you.'

'Really? All good I hope.'

'Nah, just telling Calleigh about the skating incident at Rockefeller Center on Christmas Eve last year-'

'Hey, I was drunk that night, I couldn't be held responsible for my actions.'

'Tell that to the little girl who's teddy you skated over, removing its head.'

'I apologised! And I bought her a new teddy! What more could I do?'

'Not skate over the bear in the first place?' whispered Calleigh, and Taylor giggled.

Flack evidently heard them both. 'Taylor Iris Mason, you take me off speaker phone this instant, or I'll, I'll…' He trailed off, not being able to think of a suitable threat.

Taylor laughed, and took him off speaker phone, swiftly leaving the room and heading up the stairs, where Eric and Calleigh couldn't listen. 'Seriously though Donnie, I'm glad you called. Is he still in New York?'

'I got my guys watching his every move, if he leaves the city, we'll know about it before he does.'

She relaxed against a wall, tension flowing out of her as she realised that maybe, just maybe, this time, she would be safe. And then, she could return, when he was dealt with.

'So, I hear the new girl has the hots for you.' She artfully changed the subject to something he could talk about, with minimum input from her.

'Yeah, but I told her I wasn't interested. Only one woman for me. Danny thinks he has a chance, but I told him not with Monroe waddling around behind him all the time. I swear, those pregnancy hormones, three weeks couldn't pass quickly enough for me, I get enough of that at home. Thank god for Angell, is all I'm saying. She's the only one who can calm Lindsay down after a mood swing, and it means that I don't have to go up to the Crime Lab, 'cause nine times out of ten, she's already there, convincing Monroe that no-one hates her, and she's going to be a great mother. Big news though. Word is that the baby isn't Danny's.'

'Wait, what?' Taylor was sure she had heard wrong. 'The baby not Danny's?'

'Yeah, the good Doc worked it out, and as far as he can tell, she got knocked up while Danny was in Colorado, at a conference.'

'Wow. Does Danny know?'

'Not yet, no-one wants to be the one to tell him, we're drawing straws at Ray's tonight.'

'Well, have fun. Kiss Thomas for me, I'm gonna ring Sam in a bit, just catch up.'

'I will, and tread lightly, she's a wreck at the moment, the twins were playing up all night. Oh shit, Gerrard's on the war path and he's heading for my desk. I'll be off now. Bye!'

'Bye Flack.' But she said it to thin air, he had already gone. She took a moment to be amazed at the change in flack from the sarcastic young Detective who couldn't keep it in his pants when she first met him five and a half years ago, to a successful family man, with a wife and baby, with the promise of more to come. It amazed her even more when she realised that they had only been together six months when he proposed, and pregnant three months after that. That was two years ago, and they had since had a beautiful baby boy named Thomas, and Sam was eight months pregnant again with twins. Due to difficulties in the last pregnancy, she had been hospitalised once she reached seven and a months.

Sam Ross (now Flack), was the best possible thing to happen to him, and, despite fallings out when she had first come to the Crime Lab, her and Taylor had become firm friends, Taylor being Maid of Honour at Sam's wedding. Of all the people back at New York, she would miss the bubbly Brooklyn girl the most. Two people more in love she had never seen, and she hoped that she would have the chance to someday be even a fraction as happy as they were.

Sliding her phone up again, she hit the speed dial for Sam's extension in her hospital room. After a couple of rings, someone picked up, and a scratchy, ill-sounding and downright pissed off voice answered. 'This had better be my husband, and he better have a damn good reason for missing my scan this morning, or I'm going to turn his balls into a tasteful pair of earrings.'

'Hey Sammie, sorry, not Don, although I think there's a real market for genital jewellery. Catchy huh?'

The voice on the other end cheered up considerably. 'Taylor! It's so good to hear a friendly female voice, all the nurses hear sound and look like John Travolta in Hairspray. What's it like in Miami? Anyone catch your eye? Not just for you, I'm trading my useless husband in for a younger model, one that can remember ultrasound and scan appointments.'

'Well, not that I've been looking, but there are no men for you here. Not a single tall dark haired blue eyed God. How's life in the big Apple?'

'Boring, repetitive, Danny found a castrated corpse. Pre mortem castration as well. Nasty stuff.'

'Flack mentioned the word wackadoo yet?'

'Always. First thing out of his mouth: Another day, another wackadoo. Oh!' she started, and Taylor nearly dropped the phone.

'What? What is it?'

'The twins are kicking again. Didn't get a damn wink of sleep last night. I'll be glad when the buggers are out of me.'

'No you won't. You'll be bitching and moaning about how fat you are, despite the fact you could hula hoop a polo.'

'You are such a bitch sometimes Taylor!' she said, but she was laughing at the same time.

'Yeah, but you love me anyway.'

'Debatable. Anyway, how's Miami? Any chance my soon to be ex husband is there?'

'No I haven't seen Donnie, but my Flackie sense is tingling, and he's about to face an untimely death in under an hour. I guess he's gonna pop in and see you then. There is however Mr Tall-Dark-And–Handsome working in trace though. He's bloody gorgeous. And he asked me out for lunch. Can you believe it? Me? Miss Plain?'

There was silence on the end of the phone, while Sam was trying to pick out the bits of information from the humour laced sentence. 'You met someone? Already? Oh Taylor, are you sure? Remember Mar-' she cut off abruptly. Marcus was someone neither of them needed to relive.

'It's OK. You can say his name. I'm not going to have a breakdown or anything.' reassured Taylor, although at the sound of his name she had tensed up again

'M-Markus. Seriously though Taylor, are you ready for this? You have a tendency to wear your heart on your sleeve, and I don't want to see you get hurt again. Is this guy genuine? What's his name; I'll get Donnie to run his name through the Police Database.'

'Sammie, you don't need to do that. It's just lunch, it's not like he's gonna be interested in me.'

'Don't do that to yourself. You are gorgeous, and any guy would be lucky to have you. Do you know how many people would kill for your hair, myself included? Now pull yourself together and tell me what he's like.' Her voice had changed again, to a slightly stern, mothering tone that made Taylor feel like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

'Well, he's called Tim Speedle, and-'

'No way. Tim Speedle? Rides a yellow Ducati?'

'Yeah. How'd you know?'

I went through the academy with him. He called me Mouse on the first day, so I kicked him in the balls. I haven't from him in years. How's he aged? He was pretty hot when he was in the Academy.'

'Fantastically well, he has these eyes; they're just so dark and brooding, when he looks at me I get a little weak in the knees.'

'Just lunch eh?' Taylor could practically hear her friend's eyebrows rising.

'Shut up.' she laughed, but then glanced around as she heard Eric come up the stairs. 'Looks like I gotta go, I'll call you again tonight, tell you how it went. I will. Love you too Sammie.'

She hung up, sighing and slipping the phone in her pocket. She loved that woman, but she was hard work sometimes. She swung round, facing Eric properly this time. 'So, where to next?'

Eric looked at her apologetically. South Beach I'm afraid. Dispatch called, we have a scene, and I have to bring you, Calleigh and Speed already have scenes of their own.'

'OK, let me just put this in my locker. This way?' she pointed in the direction of the trace lab, the locker room was just next to it. 'I'll meet you in the Hummer?' she suggested, going through the door.

'Sure, don't be too long!' he called, but the door was already swinging shut. He shook his head and headed for the parking lot, whistling cheerfully.

After sticking her stuff in the open locker- Taylor assumed that the code written on a piece of masking tape would lock it-, she poked her head into the trace lab and prodded Speed in the small of his back. He jumped, and pulled an earphone out. 'What the hell?' he complained, rubbing the sore spot.

'Might have to take a rain check for lunch, I got called out to a scene. I'll be back as soon as, but I wouldn't hold your breath, not if the scenes are anything like they are back in New York. See you later, hopefully.' She added shyly, before turning and gracefully leaving. Speed watched her go, watching her hips sway from side to side, hypnotic.

**-_-**

**(1) **I would just like to point out that I know next to nothing about computers, and am making this up as I go along.

I would just like to point out a couple of things. The Sam Flack of my story has a distinctly different story to the ones created by Brown eyed Girl 75. I don't own her, although I do own baby Thomas and the unborn twins. Also, in this, Sam is a couple of years older than BEG's Sam. She's 35 in this and I think only 31, 32 in MOB etc.

I think that's it, hope you enjoyed. Next chapter, Franky and Alexx.


	5. Of Texans And Playing Cards

Thanks to my reviewers night-star-93 and Brown eyed Girl 75.

Dedicated to Mark, a true candle in the dark.

I only own Taylor, nothing else (not even Timmy, more's the pity)

-_-

Taylor jumped in the passenger seat, eyes shining with excitement. 'My first scene in a new state and it's only nine thirty!'

Eric looked at her, one eyebrow raised in amusement. 'H was right, you are weird.'

'Horatio said that?' she stopped bouncing and looked at Eric, unable to believe the mild-mannered Lieutenant had called her weird. Crazy, yes, eccentric, probably, but not weird. Never weird.

'Well, not in so many words.' Eric defended his boss. 'He said that you were slightly mentally unbalanced, but I think it was a compliment. H only insults people he really likes.' They pulled out of the packing lot, narrowly avoiding a yellow Lamborghini Diablo racing past the Crime Lab. Two pairs of eyes watched it go past, Eric giving a low whistle as it disappeared around the corner.

'If I didn't have my bike…' said Taylor quietly, and that snapped Eric out of his daze.

'Please don't tell me you're another Speedle, 'cause I don't think the Lab can afford to have two suicidal speed freaks on the payroll.'

'Sorry, my mommy always told me not to lie.' she said in a sugary voice, before switching back to her normal tone. 'Beside, just because I have a bike, it does not make me a suicidal speed freak.'

'Yeah? Tell that to the asphalt scar on your face. It looks pretty nasty.'

'It was nothing; I was eighteen, an idiot. I didn't wear my helmet and skidded on black ice, woke up in hospital two days later with half my cheek missing. I was more pissed about totalling my bike, it was my baby.'

She looked so forlorn that Eric sniggered, causing her to glare at him. 'At least I could get us to the crime scene faster than forty miles an hour.

'There's nothing wrong with making sure that the CSI's don't get flattening by an eighteen-wheeler on the way to a crime scene.'

'Neither is there anything wrong with making sure they don't die of old age on the way there.' She grumbled, flicking the radio on and tuning to a station playing classic rock. Baba O'Riley came on and she started singing again. When the music was at a tolerable level, Eric could tell that she had a good voice. Better than good actually.

_Out here in the fields  
I fight for my meals  
I get my back into my living.  
I don't need to fight  
To prove I'm right  
I don't need to be forgiven.  
yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah_

Don't cry  
Don't raise your eye  
It's only teenage wasteland

Sally, take my hand  
We'll travel south cross land  
Put out the fire  
And don't look past my shoulder.  
The exodus is here  
The happy ones are near  
Let's get together  
Before we get much older.

Teenage wasteland  
It's only teenage wasteland.  
Teenage wasteland  
Oh, yeah  
Teenage wasteland  
They're all wasted!

He waited until the song was finished, then turned the radio down a little. 'You have a great voice.' He said honestly. 'You could make some money out of that.'

'I did.' she smiled, before pulling a face at the next song on the radio, Satisfaction, Rolling Stones. 'I used to sing at a jazz club in New York to pay my way through college. That's when I met Mac. He was impressed with my singing, and offered me a place in his band, their lead singer had just quit. He found out I was getting my degree in Forensics and headhunted me the day I graduated. They had just lost a member of their team, and I was there to fill the gap. My whole life feels kinda like I'm a replacement for everyone else.'

Eric didn't really know what to say to that, so he settled for nothing, and they drove in silence to the crime scene. They pulled up by South Beach, and got out of the car, Eric grabbing his kit from the back seat of the Hummer. 'Sorry,' he said apologetically, 'I couldn't get your kit, you're technically not supposed to be here, you don't start till tomorrow, officially.'

They ducked under the tape, Eric snapping on a pair of gloves and heading over to a tall, well built man in a suit. 'Hey Tripp, what do we got?'

'Mornin' Eric, bringin your dates to the crime scene now?' he said in his broad Texan accent.

Taylor was not impressed. 'You think I'm his "date"?' she asked. 'You think I look like the usual one night stand girl? Well, I got news for you Cowboy. Detective Taylor Mason, nice to meet you.' She snarled, yanking her badge off her belt and shoving it in his face.

She could Eric sniggering behind her as he got his camera out and began snapping some picture of a shoe impression on the edge on the beach, in the mud. Tripp held his hands up in surrender. 'OK OK, I'm sorry, little lady. Didn't realise you were one of us. Sergeant Frank Tripp. You must be the new girl. Horatio was telling me about you. All the way from New York.'

She put her badge back and calmed down a little. Her raging temper was one of her worst qualities, and it obviously wasn't as in control as she thought. She took a deep breath and smiled. 'Yeah, I just transferred down yesterday, they needed me ASAP. Apparently someone quit mid case?'

'That'd be Megan. If you ask me, she went a little crazy after her husband died.'

'No-one asked you, Frank.' A voice behind him made him turn, and Taylor peered around his huge frame. Standing there, sunglasses on, case in hand was Speed, looking distinctly pissed off.

'Uh-oh,' breathed Eric in a sing-song voice, and then decided it was time to leave, because he took Taylor over to a tall, glamorous black woman, crouched over the body, examining it for lividity. The body was nude, save for copper curls flowing down her back. She was young, about thirty, and as who Taylor assumed was the ME, parted the hair, a long jagged stab wound was revealed in the centre of her back.

'Alexx, this is Taylor. She just started this morning. Taylor, this is Alexx Woods, the ME.'

Alexx stood up, still looking glamorous, no indication that she had been kneeling over a corpse only moments ago. She wrapped Taylor in a very expensive smelling hug. 'Welcome to Miami, sugar. You need anything, you just ask me.'

'Alexx is the resident mother hen.' Eric said, snapping pictures of the body, ducking as Alexx swiped at him.

'Don't you sass me Eric Delko; I will kick your ass from here to San Francisco, and don't you think I can't.'

'Oh I know you can, I heard you in the hospital room when Speed went off his bike. In fact, I think the whole hospital heard you.' He sniggered and neatly sidestepped over the body, but wasn't quick enough and she caught him on the side of the head. He regained his balance and took another picture, before backing away from the body. 'You know, you seem fine talking to Alexx, I'm gonna go save Tripp from the wrath of Speed.'

Taylor glanced over at Speed and Frank, who seemed to be talking civilly, Speed didn't seem nearly as pissed off. That said, he was very very pissed before, so that didn't mean much.

'You like him, don't you?' Alexx remarked matter-of-factly, sticking a meat thermometer into the vic's liver.

'Who? Eric?' Taylor asked, not really concentrating, watching Speed run his hands through his hair for apparently the millionth time today, judging by its unruliness.

'No, honey, Timmy. Can you hand me that notebook please?' Alexx asked, pulling the thermometer out of the body with a rather unpleasant slurping noise.

Taylor passed her the notebook, forehead crinkled in annoyance. 'Is it that obvious? I thought I was being subtle.'

Alexx examined the wound tract, before reaching into it with a pair of tweezers and pulling out a folded piece of card. She hummed in confusion, carefully opening it out. It was a folded playing card, the ace of hearts. She sighed, before calling out to Eric, Frank and Speed.

'Sweetie, this conversation is NOT over.' She said to Taylor, before turning to face the approaching Detectives. Taylor, sensing this was important, moved swiftly out of the way, standing slightly behind Alexx, listening in on the conversation.

Speed, seeing the unfolded card, swore loudly, earning a disapproving glance from Alexx. He backed away, pulling his cell phone out. A pair of white earphones fell out at the same, and he scooped them up before hurrying away to a quiet area, under a large palm tree. 'I'll call Calleigh, get her to come down.'

'Why is this card so bad?' Taylor asked Frank quietly, so Eric wouldn't overhear. She wasn't in the mood for mocking.

'It means that the Gallimore case just turned into a serial.' he said softly, staring down at the body, face down in the sand, an open stab wound in the centre of her back.

-_-

I know this chapter is a lot shorter than normal, but I've been really busy lately with exams, but they're almost over now, just three more to go, until March, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Anyway, I just wanted to post this because I haven't posted for over two weeks, and I'll try to get the next chapter up ASAP. Also, due to me sorting out my work, I have a whole bunch of new ideas that the muse is insisting I type up and post, so there will be a lot more one-shots and the start of several multichapter fics. I will try and update them equally, but either way, you guys get more to read, so it's six of one, half a dozen of the other really. Anyway, sorry about the long A/N, Ciao for now!


	6. Of Crime Scenes and Bad Times

Oh my God!! Has it really been almost three months since I updated last? I am so sorry!!!!! I promise I am going to try and get more regular updates posted, although my exams start in May, so my writing time will be limited.

Thanks for ALL the amazing reviews!

---

Speed wandered over to a palm tree and leant against it, hitting the speed dial for Calleigh. Just once, he'd like to have an open and shut case, a slam dunk. More than anything, he was pissed that Taylor had taken a rain check on lunch.

The small New Yorker was like no-one he'd ever met. Hot, smart and funny, she was everything Speed was looking for in a woman, but so far had been unable to find the right amount of each characteristic.

There was Kristie, with model looks, but barely two brain cells to rub together. Or Lisa, with an IQ of 179. For their first date, she had suggested a university lecture about frogs, and their effect on the environment. Needless to say, they didn't make it to the second date. Danni was a regular on open mike night at the local comedy club, and for a while it had been great being with someone who he could unwind with after dealing with death all day. Then he introduced her to Eric. And she dumped him to pursue Delko. Speed had to hand it to the guy; he refused every single advance she made. Until a couple of months after they broke up. Speed didn't really blame him, there was something incredibly appealing about Danni, and Delko was one step away from a raging nymphomaniac. Tim had to laugh though, when she turned up at his door at three in the morning, wanting him back. Turned out she'd gone to Delko's for some fun, and he'd been with someone else, she got pissed and threw the bottle of wine at him, storming off to Speed's apartment. He didn't bother telling her that the "other woman" was more than likely Eric's cancer riddled sister Marisol. He might have been a player, but he didn't cheat.

The phone rang and rang, but there was no southern belle on the other end. 'C'mon Cal, pick up the damn phone.'

'Speed, what's up?'

'You know the Gallimore case?' he asked, running his fingers through his hair again.

'Uh, woman in her thirties, found nude on a beach, ace of hearts card folded into the wound track. What about it?'

'I think it just turned into a serial. We found another vic, same MO, same physical appearance. You need to get down here ASAP. Don't call H. He's off today, and if we bother him with this, he'll just come straight over. Let the guy have a break.'

'OK, I'll see you there. Tell Uniform not to touch _anything. _We've got to get this guy.' There was a click as she hung up.

Sighing, he turned back to face the crime scene. Eric was helping Alexx turn the body onto its back. Suddenly he heard a gasp, and they all backed away from the body, except Taylor, who was staring at it with some kind of morbid fascination.

Frowning in confusion, he approached the body. As he got closer, he saw that Taylor's look wasn't one of fascination, but rather one of horror.

As he saw the vic's face, his hand flew to his mouth, and he fought to quell the nausea that rose in his stomach. From the long lashed eyes, now cloudy that had once been green, to the high cheekbones and full lips; she could have passed for Taylor's sister.

'Shit,' he breathed, when he could trust himself to talk evenly.

'Yup,' said Taylor softly, sea green eyes on cloudy moss coloured ones.

'You don't have a sister, by any chance?'

'Life wouldn't be that easy.' She smiled slightly, but her eyes were still full of shock.

Alexx approached slowly, signaling to a couple of her assistants to bag and tag the body. As they lifted the body up, her hair fell to the ground, revealing her bare shoulder. A silvery scar sat on the collar bone a jagged X, like a kiss on a greetings card.

Speed was suddenly aware of someone hitting the ground behind him, and he whirled around to find Taylor sitting on the ground, her eyes wild and unseeing, her breathing rapid, to rapid to provide any oxygen.

--

Taylor saw the scar on the Jane Doe's collar bone, and was taken back to New York, to something that was in her past, and should have stayed there.

_Her cheek burned as he backhanded her again. She spat out a mouthful of blood, sneering at him with scarlet lips._

_Three days. Three days she'd been down here. Seventy two hours. It seemed like a lifetime._

_At first she had shouted and sworn at him, letting him know what she thought of him, but that seemed to make him angrier, so she said nothing._

_His dirty blond hair fell into his eyes as he glared at her, not bothering to disguise the hatred he so obviously felt. But she'd guessed when someone had beaten the shit out of you for three days straight, it was a pretty clear indicator of hate._

_He hit her again, with a clenched fist, and she felt something in her face crack, just under the eye that was swollen shut. He spat at her and left, slamming the door behind him. She struggled against the bonds that held her to the chair, even though she knew it was futile. God knows she'd tried before._

_The door banged open again, and he stormed in, holding a hunting knife and a 50. Desert Eagle._

_She couldn't hide the fear in her eyes, and he laughed. She couldn't believe she had once loved this man._

_She opened her cracked lips, certain that she was going to die. What she said wouldn't matter anymore, she was dead either way._

'_Markus,' she croaked, her throat dry, her stomach having been robbed of food and water for almost four days now._

_He said nothing, bending over her, running the flat of the knife over her exposed stomach, up past her breasts, resting on her collarbone. 'Let me give you a little signature, an indicator of who did this, who rid the world of you,' he murmured, taking the knife and carving something into her skin. Fire flowed through her, cutting her to the core, but she didn't scream, she wouldn't. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Instead she clamped her lips shut and went back to a happier time, a time when it was just her and Duck in their world. They were both seven, and they were riding their bike down the sidewalk of their street, their boundaries for that summer Miss Atkinson's house three door to the right, and the phone box on the corner, to the left of their house. Boundaries plenty big enough for two small children, who thought that the world was no bigger than a place called Queens, and were quite satisfied with it. She could remember the sound of the ice cream van trundling down the street, and the sound of Duck's father shouting to them, and the smell of the lemon tree growing in her back yard, a veritable bounty when it came to lemonade stands at the weekend._

_And she thought of Duck. Where had the name come from? She hadn't used his nickname in almost twenty years, why had it come back now? She could hear him calling her name when she fell off her bike, the burning pain in her stomach where she had belly flopped onto the grass. 'Tay! Come on Tay, talk to me.' His voice matured, deepening into the broad accent she heard every day. 'You've gotta come back darling, we're all here waiting for you to come back.' She heard a sob, and someone was holding her hand. 'Please Tay, I can't lose you. We're here, me and Sammie, and Danny, and Hawkes, and Adam, and Mac, and even Stella is here, waiting for you. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.' There was silence, and then she heard a broken 'Please, Taylor, I thought I'd lost you once, I can't do it again.'_

_She fought with all her might to open her eyes, and she heard a gasp, and a shout for a nurse. She tried again, and, with a herculean effort, her eyelids flickered open, and the world swam into focus slowly._

_She turned her head to the left, ignoring a pulling on her shoulder and looked into the blue eyes of her best friend. 'Duck?' she mumbled, still woozy._

_She heard a snicker, and transferred her attention to the tiny brunette, perched on the end of her bed, tears in her eyes. 'You're back. I thought we were gonna lose you,' she sniffled, wiping her eyes delicately._

'_Nah, Sammie, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried. I'm here forever.'_

'_Wouldn't have it any other way,' smiled Hawkes, on the other side of the bed._

'_I would,' sniggered Danny, ducking when Sam threw a piece of candy at him. 'What? I meant that a quiet Taylor is preferable to a sarcastic Taylor any day.' He ducked again as Taylor threw a piece of candy at him, although it fell short, she was still weak from the coma she had been in._

'_Screw you Blondie,' she sighed, her eyelids sliding shut, and her chest began to move up and down slowly, a signal that she was asleep._

_She looked peaceful on the outside, but inside she was screaming, fighting Markus off again and again, he always came back, with the knife, carving into her skin. Always._

_--_

She choked out a sob, tears sliding down her face as she was forced to relive something that never should have happened in the first place. In an instant Speed was at her side, calling her name, trying to bring her back. 'Come on Taylor, whatever you're seeing it's not real,' he muttered, rubbing her back, trying not to show how worried he really was. With a wordless cry, she collapsed into Speed's arms, hiding her face with her hands, crying quietly into Speed's shirt, soaking it with salty tears.

Seeing her like this helped him make a split second decision. Screw professionalism. He gathered her tiny frame up and lifted her easily. She didn't react, and he carried her over to one of the Hummers, sitting her on the passenger seat, leaving the door open and crouching beside her, tilting her head up to look him in the eye. She sniffed, still partially in the throes of her flashback.

He said nothing, just waiting in silence until her breathing returned to normal, and there was no sound except her sudden hiccups. He reached over and flipped open the glove box, retrieving a bottle of water and handing it to her. She uncapped it with shaking hands and sipped at it, eyes downcast.

Eventually she spoke, in a quiet voice. 'Thank you,' she said simply, looking him in the eye for the first time since the attack. He was shocked at how lost her green eyes were. They were the eyes of someone who had had everything taken away, and then been thrust back into a world she no longer knew.

'For what?' he asked, equally silent, holding her gaze.

'For not being a nosy prick,' she replied, and a smile tugged at her lips. She seemed more embarrassed than freaked out by now, although her eyes told a different story. She was very skilled at hiding things, and it was only a fluke that he had noticed her eyes. A little voice inside him asked what the hell he was thinking looking into her eyes like that in the first place, but it was only a little voice, and he squashed the feeling down. He didn't care if it was unprofessional, he had seen her having some sort of panic attack, and he had reacted like a boyfriend or lover, not a co-worker.

He felt eyes on him, and he glanced behind, catching sight of Eric, leaning against a tree casually, talking to Calleigh, who had just pulled up in yet another Hummer. His eyes were focused on Taylor, but he was too far away to see the reason behind his gazing. He turned his attention back to Taylor, who was looking more and more like her normal self, and had finished off her bottle of water.

Speed sighed and hunted down another bottle for himself. Looks like there was more to Taylor than the New York girl next door.

--

OK, so, kinda short, but I'm gonna try and get the next chapter up ASAP. Coming soon, Taylor's firearms retest and Taylor and Speed finally get their 'rainchecked' lunch.


	7. Of Family and Friends

Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter guys! They really make my day!

I don't own CSI NY or any of it's characters. I do however own Taylor and baby Thomas, and the fabulous BEG owns Sam.

--

Speed and Taylor drove back to the Crime Lab in silence, Speed occasionally stealing glances at her as she gazed out of the window, watching Miami flash past. He thought about what could possibly have happened in New York to turn her in a crying wreck so fast like that. He knew that it could be linked to the mark of the victim's collarbone, but it could also have just been a delayed reaction to seeing the victim, who was so similar to her.

A ringing phone made them both jump, and Taylor rummaged in her pockets, finally extracting a small, silvery-blue cell phone. She checked the call ID and pressed the reject call button, before tossing it into the drinks holder, turning to face the window again. Miami was a beautiful city, the bright sun reflecting on the ocean, making the water golden. A gentle breeze ran through the trees, making the leaves dance. Tall silver skyscrapers towered over them, before being replaced by smaller houses as they travelled along the coastal road to the Crime Lab. They passed one house with moving vans outside it, and Taylor caught sight of a flash of red hair as they drove past her new house, Horatio clearly hard at work. The phone rang again, and Taylor patiently picked it up, pressing call reject before returning it to the drinks tray. Speed raised a quizzical eyebrow, but she just turned back to the window again, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. It wasn't even noon yet and it was eighty degrees. Sometimes he really missed Syracuse.

The rest of the journey passed relatively quickly, and when he pulled into the Crime Lab parking lot, she jumped down from the high car and disappeared towards the big glass building, already dialing a number on her phone, holding it up to her ear. Speed watched her go, before resting his head on the steering wheel, stifling a yawn. It had been a long night last night. Gabe had been having a bad day, so he went to help out, and didn't get home till three in the morning. He loved his sister and her son, but calling someone at eleven at night to help out was too far. He'd gone, but he'd had to ask Charlotte not to call him that late again, he spent enough nights at the lab, he didn't want to spend every single night that he wasn't on call at her house when he could be at home, unwinding. He could count on one hand the number of dates he'd had in the last year that hadn't been interrupted by either dispatch or Lottie, and still have spare fingers.

By some cruel twist of fate, his cell began to ring, and he answered it wearily. 'Tim?'

'What is it now Charlotte?' he asked, undoing his seatbelt and climbing out of the car, wandering across the parking lot towards the Lab, nodding a hello to one of the lab techs, apparently on his way to either lunch or home. Lucky bastard.

'I know what you said, but I didn't know who else to call and-'

Speed cut her off. 'What do you want?' he knew he was being harsh, but right now he couldn't give a shit.

'Gabe locked himself in his room, and he won't come out. I've been trying for like, the last hour and he just won't listen to me. You're the only person he really looks up to, and I thought maybe you could come over, try and get him to come out?'

Speed sighed, and looked at Taylor, just entering the Crime Lab. He had wanted to follow her, make sure she was OK, but life decided to get in the way. Fantastic. He scratched the back of his neck, before answering his sister. 'I'll be over as soon as I can, but if I get a call from dispatch, then that takes priority. I'm on the clock here y'know.'

She thanked him and hung up. He cast one final look at Taylor, disappearing out of sight. 'I hate my life sometimes,' he muttered, before heading for his Ducati. The faster he got there, the faster he could talk the kid out, the faster he could leave. In theory, anyway.

--

Taylor climbed out of the car hurriedly, still fighting to keep it together. In public anyway. Her phone rang again, and she pressed the call reject button one last time. She couldn't deal with her profiler friend right now, as the saying went 'Never BS a profiler, cos they can read your mind.' Instead she rang a number so familiar that she could call it in her sleep. She held the phone to her ear, praying that Sammie would answer, and that she wasn't busy laying into Flack for missing the scan. It rang and rang, and it was getting harder for Taylor to hold her self together. Entering the building, she made a beeline for the ballistics lab, knowing that while Calleigh was at the crime scene, she would have privacy. Almost skipping down the stairs, she breathed a sigh of relief as her best friend answered, sounding cheery and relaxed. Apparently she and Flack had done the proverbial kiss and make up. 'Hey, long time no speak,' she said in a voice laden with joking sarcasm, the kind usually reserved for Flack.

Taylor said nothing, just released all the emotion that she had been unable to vent earlier in the Hummer, during the awkward silence, letting out a choking sob that sounded a lot like Markus.

Instantly Sam dropped the sarcasm and soothed Taylor as she gradually sobbed out the whole story, emotionally rubbing her back, and talking her down from the mental ledge she was standing on. She patiently listened to Taylor panic about how he was going to get her, and that he was going to come after her in the dead of night, but when she started talking about leaving again, Sam couldn't just say nothing.

'Just stop it with the shit Taylor. Every time something slightly bad happens, you start going on about leaving. You ran away from Markus once before, this time, try standing your fucking ground!'

Taylor was shocked into silence, something that always happened when her tiny friend started shouting at her. They got along so well that they rarely lost their temper with each other, preferring instead to bottle up anger and save it for the scumbags they interrogated day in and day out. Finally she found her voice. 'I don't run away from things,' she said, her voice so unconvincing that she didn't believe it herself.

'Honey, someone looked at you funny and you tried to move apartments. You do tend to be on the skittish side when it comes to guys. This guy you were telling me about, Speed. He's a great guy, you two could have a good thing going on, if you let yourself trust him. But if you run away again, then you'll be ruining something that has the potential to be something amazing.'

On the other end of the phone, Taylor heard the door bang open, and a cry of 'Mommy!' followed by tiny feet thumping along the floor towards the floor. 'I'm guessing Flack just showed up with Thomas in tow,' she said over the shrieks of laughter as Sam said hello to her son.

'Yup,' confirmed Sam. 'Tommy, say hello to Auntie Taylor.'

She handed the phone over and Taylor could imagine the look of confusion on the two year olds face as he examined the phone, determining whether 'Auntie Taylor' was hiding in the phone. She heard Sam's muffled voice explaining that she was on the other end, you talked into it and she heard you in her new home. Eventually there was a curious voice on the other end. 'Auntie Tay tay?' he asked, evidently deciding what the chances were of Taylor's voice coming out of the other end.

'Hey little man,' she answered, and he shrieked in joy, that baby laugh that was so endearing. Except when you had a hangover, as she had learned from experience.

'Auntie Tay tay, me an' Daddy went to the zoo, an' we saw da man feed the tiggers,' he said, content to babble away for the rest for the day.

'Wow, that sounds like so much fun. I wish I could have gone too,' said Taylor, and she meant it. She loved her godson, and was gonna miss him here in Miami. 'Did you see the monkeys as well?'

'Yeah, we saw da monkeys. Daddy says dat da monkeys is his favorite cos they's like people, but furry,' he began, but Taylor interrupted him.

'You tell your Daddy that he's just a big monkey as well, and that's why he likes them.'

'O'tay,' he said in his cute baby talk, before proceeding to tell his daddy exactly that. She heard Sam laughing, and Thomas joined in. Sam's laughter was infectious. Then there was an electronic squeal as the phone was dragged over something, possibly the nylon bedcovers, where it had been dropped, and retrieved by Flack. 'Thin ice, Mason, thin ice.'

'What are you going to do about it then?' she teased, realizing how good her friends made her feel. She couldn't leave Miami, this was the closest position available in a lab, she would have to go even further away, as far as the West Coast.

'I shall bide my time. You gotta come back to New York sometime, and I'll be waiting.'

'Ooooh, I'm scared now. What's the big bad homicide detective gonna do to me?'

At that comment he laughed, long and loud and deep. God she's missed that laugh, just like she'd missed Adam's constant babbling, Danny's wisecracks, Mac's crime scene puns, Sam's constant swearing, and Hawkes' technobabble. But after the laugh there was silence, apparently lost for words.

'Exactly,' she said, smug. 'You can't do anythin' to me.'

'You seem very sure of that.'

'Only 'cos I know Sammie'll kick your ass if you do,' she laughed.

'Probably,' he agreed, making her laugh harder. 'Uh, I gotta go, Sammie's giving me the death glare. See you in a month when the devil children make an appearance.'

'I wouldn't put it past them to appear before that. If they've got any Ross in them at all, they'll either be really early, or really late.' Flack laughed again, and then passed the phone over to Sam.

Suddenly Taylor was solemn again. 'So, what am I going to do about Markus?' she asked quietly, trying to reduce the chances of Flack hearing. If he heard that Markus was in Miami, then he'd assemble the firing squad (i.e. Danny, Adam, Mac, Hawkes etc) and be in Miami before you could blink.

'Hang on a sec,' said Sam, and then all the sound was muted. She must be holding her hand over the mouthpiece. Taylor could hear snatches of conversation

'Thomas… ice cream…daddy will take you.' The door banged shut, and then al the sound came back, and Sam was talking. She sighed. 'Taylor,' she began gently. 'I don't mean this in a bad way, but are you sure it's Markus? Because Don's been keeping an eye on him, and he hasn't left New York. You're perfectly safe where you are, Markus isn't coming to get you. He wouldn't dare.'

'But-' she interrupted, but Sam just kept talking.

'-And even if he is in Miami, then you can't run away again, it's just letting him win. You can't keep letting him destroy your life. Can't you see that's exactly what he wants? Never let anyone do that to you. Besides, if he does find you, you know you always have a safe place to stay here, don't you? You know that we would all die for you. We miss you. Donnie misses you, Thomas misses you even the damn dogs miss you. They've been moping around all day, looking like someone died.'

'Thanks Sammie,' Taylor said quietly, suddenly feeling like a great weight had been lifted from her chest. The crushing fear she'd felt since the crime scene was gone, and she could breathe properly again.

'Anyway, if you come back up here, then I'll be needing a nanny for the twins. Can't just let you sit on your ass all day.'

Taylor laughed, the light joking mood she'd woken up with today coming back. 'Good to know,' she said. 'If I ever feeling like selling my soul, I'll be there to look after Flack's demon children.'

'You'd better be,' scolded Sam, before squeaking in surprise.

'What the hell was that?' Taylor asked, alarmed.

'Just the twins. I thought they'd gone to sleep. Apparently not.'

'Must be 'cos they know I'm on the phone.' grinned Taylor, waving at Cooper, who had just poked his head round the door, soot smudged on his cheek. 'I gotta go Sammie, everyone's vying for my attention.'

'Modest, as always,' said Sam. 'I'll ring you later, after I've had _another_ scan.'

'Love you.'

'Love you too,' said Sam. 'Take care of yourself.'

'You too. And the twins.' Sam acknowledged her and hung up, leaving Taylor with Cooper.

'Hey,' she said, sliding her phone back into her pocket and standing up, brushing her hair behind her ear.

'Hey,' he said, scratching his neck nervously. 'I uh, heard someone talking down here, and uh, was uh, I was just wondering if uh, maybe, you might wanna-'

'Just say it Dan,' said Taylor, unholstering her weapon and taking it apart, cleaning each part individually.

He turned beetroot red. 'Would you uh, could you, givemeahandwiththecomputers?' he said, gabbling it out all in one word.

Taylor breathed out in relief. She'd thought he was going to ask her on a date, the colour he had turned. 'Sure Dan, just give me a minute, yeah?'

He nodded and disappeared up the stairs. She clicked her gun back together, and took a moment to reflect on her new colleagues. Could they really become her new family in time? Could she let go of her past long enough to form a future with these people?

In all honesty, she didn't know.

--

Kind of a filler chapter, but I wanted to explore the relationship between Taylor and Sam, and add another layer to Speed's character. Hope you enjoyed!


	8. Of Chinese food and Seawater

Thanks for all the reviews guys. Again, I own nothing except Taylor, Charlotte and Gabe. CSI Miami does not belong to me! -sigh-

This is a birthday present for BEG. Hope you like it Penni! I made it extra long, just for you, hope you're feeling better soon!

A/N: I would just like to point out that any information on autism in this chapter I learned from reading 'The curious incident of the dog in the night time.' Any incorrect information is from there, and therefore blame the book, not me.

--

Taylor spent the rest of the morning in the computer room, helping Cooper fix the malfunctioning computers. She enjoyed the young A/V tech's company, he reminded her of Adam. The constant babbling, the sense of humour, and the unwavering loyalty and passion for his job. She found out that he planned to become a CSI in time, and that he had a sister in LA, who was an undercover FBI agent. She learned about his likes and dislikes, his hobbies and quirks. There was much more to Dan Cooper than just a defensive young guy dubbed a computer geek by those who barely knew him. He talked about his family and a girlfriend who waited at home for him every night, and how he was planning to buy a ring any day now. And in return Taylor told him about New York. The friends she had there, the family she had made. They swapped stories of some of the weirder cases they had worked on. Cooper told Taylor about the alligator hunters who stole the black boxes from a plane that crashed in the Everglades and hid them in a pool of baby 'gators. Taylor told Cooper about the silicon doll case, where guys actually bought dolls, and in specific one guy who had parties and meals with his dolls, and traded one in for a different doll because she didn't fit in with the others. She told him about how Flack had made a wisecrack about how you'd save money on dinner, and how she'd watched Lindsay torment the poor guy in public, claiming that he'd dumped her for a doll. By the end he was rolling in the aisles, so to speak.

She didn't know how much time had passed, so she was surprised when Speed suddenly appeared in the doorway, holding bags of Chinese food. Her stomach rumbled, and she realised that it was half four in the afternoon, and she hadn't had any real food yet today, save for the nutrition bars this morning. She jumped up, untangling herself from the numerous cables that had tangled around her and Cooper while they worked. Cooper hung back, and she turned, confused. 'You don't want any?' she asked.

He turned faintly pink, and looked at Speed, hesitant. 'I uh, I don't think that there'll be enough for three,' he mumbled, looking at his feet.

Taylor looked pointedly at Speed, until he smiled and said 'Nah, dig in, I always buy way too much anyway.'

Cooper's face lit up, and he and Taylor followed Speed to the break room, where they unpacked it and scarfed it down. Taylor didn't realise how hungry she was until she poked her chopsticks into the carton and found nothing but cardboard. After the first carton, she ate more leisurely, talking lazily with the guys, getting up to speed on the case this morning. Speed picked a carton at random and opened it, fumbling with his chopsticks. Taylor rolled her eyes, taking the chopsticks off him and pulling a piece of paper and a hair elastic out of her pocket. She folded the piece of paper up, holding it between the ends of the chopsticks with the elastic. 'There. Honestly, I don't know why men can't seem to master chopsticks. It's hardly Einstein worthy knowledge.'

Speed stuck his tongue out before digging out a piece of pork. 'Here. This Moo Shu pork is too great for you not to try.' He held out the chopsticks for her, and she tried the pork, pulling it off the chopsticks with her teeth, closing her eyes as the taste of the perfectly cooked food seeped into her taste buds.

'Mmm, delicious,' she stated, opening her eyes again and smiling.

'Yeah, the Chinese food here is great, better than in China I would say,' laughed Cooper, who had seemingly mastered chopsticks and was devouring some kind of stir fry. He popped a mushroom in, before putting the carton down and pushing it away. 'I'm stuffed,' he declared, surveying the remains of the packaging on the table in front of them. Taylor considered the rest of her carton, but declined, opting instead for another piece of pork from Speed's chopsticks. Cooper started clearing the garbage back into the paper bag it had come in. Taylor headed to the fridge, pulling out three bottles of water, and went back to the table, passing a couple of what she assumed were lab techs, judging by the lab coats. She caught the tail end of one of the sentences. '-waltzing in here like she owns the place, trying to get off with Tim, I don't know where she gets off.' She walked up behind them and cleared her throat. They jumped, their identical blonde ponytails waving. All three turned around, glaring up at her and she stood there, arms folded. The one sitting in the middle, a Kendall clone if she ever saw one stood up, towering over Taylor in her black high heels, looking down her nose at her. 'Do you want something?' she asked, her refined English accent cutting.

'Nope,' said Taylor, shaking her head. 'Just wanted to tell you that if you're gonna bitch about me, do it where I can't hear, cos I wouldn't wanna have to kick your blonde little ass.'

'And what are you going to do if we don't?' Kendall clone asked, the other two standing up as well, like a trio of blond vultures.

'Then you answer to us,' came a voice from the doorway, and all four women turned.

Standing there, framed by the slowly setting sun were Eric and Calleigh, looking tired and dusty, Eric's once white shirt now covered in brown smudges of mud. Standing up by the table, Cooper and Speed's body language showed that they were prepared to back Taylor up as well.

Kendall clone's lip curled in disgust, and with a nod of her head, she stalked out, followed by her henchwomen. One of them bumped Calleigh, and Eric's face crumpled into anger. He turned to go after them, but Calleigh's hand on his elbow stopped him. He looked at her, and his face softened. She turned to Taylor, smiling, no trace of the coldness that had graced her features before. 'Come on Taylor, I know a great way to relieve stress. And boy I could use some stress relief.'

'Yeah, go nuts,' said Eric, edging towards the coffee pot on the counter.

Taylor laughed, and joined Calleigh, linking arms on the way down the corridor, leaving Speed, Cooper and Eric in the break room.

--

Speed pulled up outside his sister's house, wheeling his bike onto the driveway. He didn't bother knocking, just walked straight in, running his hands through his hair as he wandered up the stairs, calling his sister's name. A head poked out of an alcove, messy brown hair pulled back in a wayward bun. She was sitting in front of a door that Speed knew from experience was his nephews.

He sat down beside Charlotte, keeping his voice to a whisper. 'What happened this time?'

'I messed up his breakfast. He went mental and I just snapped. Started shouting at him cos he wouldn't eat his toast cos it had too much damn chocolate spread. He ran up here and started building a barricade. I been trying to talk him out since ten o'clock this morning.'

Speed sighed, tilting his head backwards. 'Gabe?' he shouted, testing the waters.

'I'm not comin' out Uncle Tim!' he shouted through the door. 'You can fuck off!'

Speed ground his teeth. Gabe was eleven; he shouldn't know how to use that kind of language.

'Hey, kid. You can call me any name under the sun if you want, but you don't use that language in front of your mother,' he warned, pulling a small screw driver out of his pocket. 'Have you got any kind of oil?' he added in an undertone to Charlotte, who looked tired as hell. She nodded and disappeared down the stairs, hair falling out of its bun. He stood up, and began to unscrew the top hinge of the door, all the while talking to Gabe, trying to get him out before he was forced to take the door completely off.

'Come on Gabe, you can't spend the rest of your life in there. You gotta be hungry, huh?'

'Nuh-uh,' shouted Gabe.

'Fair enough. Well, you will be. You wanna know what I've been doing today?' he asked, as Charlotte returned with a small can of motor oil. She shook her head, signaling that she didn't want her son to know.

'Did you find another body?' Gabe asked, tentatively.

Speed starting drizzling oil on the hinges, so the sound of the screws wouldn't screech, alerting the kid to his plan. 'Yup,' he said, returning to his task, ignoring Charlotte's hissed protests.

'Was it all decomposed and icky?' he asked, his voice louder. It sounded like he was sitting right next to the door, ear to the cracks.

'Not tellin',' said Speed in a childish tone as he worked one screw free, dropping it into his pocket to keep it safe. He rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans as he got to work on the second.

'Aaaaaaaaaaw,' whined Gabe. 'Why not?'

'Don't like talkin to people who hide behind doors,' he retorted, adding more oil.

If, if I come out, will you tell me more about the body you found?' he asked. Speed chuckled and shook his head. Kids were so predictable.

'Sure kid. Once you apologize to your mother for that foul language.' He could hear movement on the other side as Gabe dismantled his barricade. Everything would have to go in the right place, so it could take a while.

Almost an hour later, the door eased open, and Gabe popped his head out, looking sheepish, his long brown hair messier than usual. Charlotte stood up, eyes blazing 'Gabriel Peter Speedle, you ever do that again, I swear to God I will kick your ass so hard you won't sit down for a week!'

The head disappeared back into the room again, but Speed was quicker and jammed his foot in the doorway, thanking God that he had worn his boots and not his shabby old sneakers today. 'Gabe,' he warned, locking eyes with the child he had helped raise. It had been Speed who had noticed the symptoms that led to the diagnosis of autism, Speed who had dealt with it when Charlotte couldn't cope, Speed who had painstakingly built up a relationship with a kid who didn't want to talk to his mother, and a mother who didn't know how to speak to her child. He did not want to be messed with, not now, not on four hours of sleep.

A sullen face stared back at him, and Speed was suddenly taken aback. When had the small, always cheery kid gone, to be replaced by well, a smaller version of himself? Somehow, when he'd blinked, or looked away for a second, Gabe had grown up.

He took a deep breath, and looked at him again. The kid must have seen the look in his eyes that clearly said 'get the hell out of your room', because he slowly opened the door, looking almost apologetic. Charlotte had long since fled to her own room in tears of rage or frustration, he couldn't tell. Speed sighed and beckoned the kid downstairs, where he raided the fridge for the ingredients for chocolate chip pancakes. It was what he always made for Gabe when he came round, it was comfort food of a sort, and Speed thought he'd fucking earned them. He left the chocolate chip packet on the counter, and they both snacked at them while Speed mixed and they talked.

'You know, you really upset your mom this morning,' said Speed, halting his mixing and looking at Gabe.

Gabe, in turn, suddenly became very interested in his shoes. 'I didn't mean to,' he said, after a long silence. 'I just got so mad about the toast. I don't want to, but I can't help myself.'

'So, what have you learned today that means that there won't be a next time?' Speed poured the mixture into the frying pan, flipping it when one side was cooked before sliding it onto a plate, giving it to Gabe.

'Uhhh,' he said, digging in the drawer for cutlery. 'I could make breakfast myself? That way it could give mom more time on a morning and I would have the right amount of chocolate spread on my toast?'

'Yup,' agreed Speed, starting another pancake. 'Or?'

'Or, or,' started Gabe, licking melted chocolate off his fingers. 'or, I could calm down. Try not to get so angry? Like Doctor Hunter said?'

'Exactly,' said Speed, retrieving his own cutlery to eat with. Remember, she told you then when you felt angry, to close your eyes and do sums in your head.'

'Like 324 times seven?' he asked eagerly, his mouth full.

'Which is?' Speed prompted him.

'2268,' he replied, grinning.

'I'll take your word for it,' laughed Speed, grinning back. When they'd finished their pancakes, Speed washed up before making lunch for Charlotte and taking it up to her room. It must be hard for her, he reflected, looking after an autistic kid full time on your own. She was entitled to her breakdowns once in a while. They did seem to be happening more than once in a while now though, and Speed was getting worried. He knocked gently on the door with his elbow, nudging it open gently.

Done in creams browns and scarlet, with the curtains open this room seemed warm, friendly and inviting, however in the dusk, like it was with the curtains drawn, it seemed cramped and cold, somewhere uninhabited for weeks. Sitting on the bed, comforter wrapped around her, was Charlotte, red rimmed eyes and wet cheeks the only visible features. Crossing the room and setting down the tray down, Speed sat down on the edge of the bed, drawing his sister into a hug.

'I just don't know what to do anymore,' she whispered, her hands curling into fists, clinging onto Speed's shirt. 'I can't cope with it. Maybe I should just call James, maybe he could come and help out. For a while anyway.'

Speed snorted, shaking his head. 'That jackass? What makes you think he'd want to help? He took off as soon as he found out you were pregnant, with his child, by the way, and I don't think he'd come back now. Beside, you think I'm gonna let my baby sister be his punching bag again? Or my nephew?'

She looked up with wide eyes, full of panic. 'How'd you-'

'How'd I know? I'm a CSI. It's kinda my job to notice things,' he said softly. 'The only reason I didn't throw his ass into a four by four cell was 'cos I kept telling myself that you loved him, and that he'd change. Then he pissed off and I knew you were better off without him. So tell me, cos I'm a little confused, why you want to let a scumbag like that into your life, into Gabe's life?'

'Because I need help, Tim! I can't do this on my own any more, and you can't be around to help every time there's a problem like today! It's not like any other man is gonna want me, not with Gabe and his problems, I don't know how much longer I can do this alone, and James loved me, OK? James loved me!' she snapped, jumping up from the bed, dropping the comforter on the floor.

Speed stood up as well, towering over her slight frame. 'He loved you so much he beat the crap out of you? I saw the bruises, the broken bones, how can you think he loved you?'

'Because I deserved it! He didn't want to, but I kept doing things wrong, I was a bad wife!' she shouted, hazel eyes flashing with rage.

'So you deserved the broken wrist, the fractured skull, the crushed foot?' he roared, throwing up his arms and pacing around the room, throwing furious glances at her.

She just looked at him, anger dissipating into fear. Her brother was not a small man, and there was a reason he was feared among criminals and lawyers alike. 'Tim, please,' she pleaded. 'You don't, you can't understand. Yes, he hit me, OK? Yes he broke my bones! But I still loved him because he was my husband! He was the father of my unborn child, and no matter what he did, he was still Gabe's dad. He was still my Jimmy!' Her shouting gave way to tears, and Speed's rage vanished as fast as it had appeared. He stopped pacing, and retreated to the bed, sitting down, head in hands. Charlotte came to sit next to him and just curled up next to him. He put an arm around her shoulder and they sat there for several minutes, not doing anything, just being.

'I really thought he would change,' she murmured suddenly.

'Me too,' agreed Speed softly. 'Me too.'

'What am I gonna do Timmy?' she asked, pushing herself up. 'I can't do this. I feel like everything is building up and building up, and something's gotta give.'

'Don't worry, I am gonna be here every step of the way, you'll be just fine.' He kissed her cheek and then stood up, holding out his hand. 'Come on, I'll take ya out. Just you, me and the kid.'

'I thought you were on the clock?' she asked, taking his hand and smiling.

'I'll call Kenny and see if he can put me on call.' They wandered down the stairs, the dark mood hanging over them disappearing more every step they took. Stepping into the sitting room, Speed sat down on the couch, made a quick phone call to his friend in dispatch, who put him on call for the next three hours.

Speed then took Charlotte and Gabe into the garage, loaded them into the car and just took them to the beach. He laid a blanket out in the sand for Charlotte to sit on, and then played with Gabe, before allowing himself to be buried, although he refused to go to in the sea to wash himself off, instead quickly changing into some less sandy clothes that he kept in the boot of his car, before flopping down on the blanket next to a sunbathing Charlotte, brushing sand out of his hair.

'I still don't get why you hate the sea so much,' she laughed, brushing the rest of the sand off the back of his neck.

'Believe me, if you saw what I've seen of the sea, you'd hate it too,' he muttered, before lying back, letting the sun's rays wash over his face.

'Mom,' called Gabe, running over, a huge smile plastered on his face. 'Can I go in the sea by myself if Uncle Speed's being a girl?'

She nodded her consent before lying down next to Speed. 'Y'know,' she said. 'This is happier than I've seen him in a long time.' She rolled over, looking at him. 'Thank you.'

Speed rolled over as well, facing her. 'No problem. What are big brothers for?'

They stayed on the beach a while longer, watched the sun starting to set before returning to the car, Gabe wrapped in a towel, his hair tangled from the salty water. He drove them back to the house, leaving the car there and taking the Ducati back to the lab, picking up Chinese food on the way for him and Taylor. Not much of a dinner date, but he wanted to just relax and spend time with her, getting to know her. Lugging the food down the hallway, he heard laughter coming from the A/V room, the only room where there was any sign of life.

He rounded the corner and came upon Taylor and Cooper sitting on the floor, surrounded by computer monitors and cables, laughing loudly. He allowed himself a smirk. Looks like Taylor was definitely going to bring new life to the lab.

--

Hope you liked it, however, this may be the last chapter I post before my hiatus starts to make way for exams.

I'll be back some time around June 16th!


	9. Of shooting practice and new faces

New chapter, yay! No? Ok, fair enough.

Dedicated to BEG, who I've been repeatedly bouncing ideas off, and 'cos she let me borrow the fabulous Sam Ross (who I don't own, duh)

I only own Taylor and Jimmy. Speaking of, Kristin found an actress for Taylor, Alicia Witt, so a big thanks to her! Jimmy Wong is played by James Kyson Lee.

Thanks for all the reviews guys!

--

Planting her feet shoulder width apart, she raised the gun in a steady, two handed grip and squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times; faster than the eyes could follow, the bullets raced from the barrel, through a flimsy paper target and buried themselves in the cork wall at the end of the range. Squinting, Taylor determined whether she was hitting the bull's eye before emptying the clip into the target. Hitting the button that brought the target to the front of the range, she removed her ear defenders and glasses, hearing someone enter the firing range behind her and Calleigh.

She heard a low whistle as whoever it was stepped up behind her. She turned to face them and saw Speed standing two inches away; she was, quite literally, face to chest with him.

'What?' said a voice behind Speed, and looked around him to see Eric, looking confused. In the gun locker Calleigh was busy loading a weapon of her own. 'Why the whistle? She didn't hit any of the vitals,' he said, looking at the target, more specifically the heart area.

'Look down, genius.' Speed chuckled as he did and paled slightly as he saw the twelve bullet holes, all concentrated on or around the crotch 'Remind me never to piss you off,' he said to Taylor as she reloaded her weapon expertly

'Sure,' she said, laughing. 'Never piss me off.'

She was just about to replace her ear defenders when her phone rang, Coldplay filling the small room. Eric pulled a face and she glared as she answered it, holstering her weapon again. The soft voice of her new boss floated out of the phone. 'Taylor, your house is all done, except for stuff like clothes and a couple of boxes marked 'Personal, stay the hell out.' She could hear the amusement in the older man's voice and she grinned.

'OK, thanks Bossman.'

'You might as well clock out, sounds like it's been a quiet day. Gangs must have known you were coming.'

'Hey, it's not fault Tanglewood's rule seventeen was 'Don't piss off the red head'.' She grinned, remembering the look on Danny's face when he heard that. It was somewhere between pissed and amused. 'Anyway, I'll head home. Beg a ride off someone.' She looked pointedly at Speed, mouthing 'Ducati'. He responded by rolling his eyes, avoiding the statement.

'OK,' she responded to something on the other end of the line. 'Yes, I know that tomorrow is my first official day. No, I won't shoot anyone. But, what if they shoot at me first? Then I would be forced to shoot back, as a matter of self defen-' She held the phone away from her ear, looking at it in puzzlement. 'He hung up on me,' she said, looking hurt.

'And you're surprised by that?' Calleigh called from the other room. 'Taylor, I've known you for all of half a day and even I've noticed that you have a tendency to babble.'

She pouted, sliding the phone shut.

'Oh calm down,' said Speed.

She arched an eyebrow, swiveling around in the chair she had just dropped into. 'You know what would cheer me up?'

He shook his head.

'Giving me a lift home on the Ducati.' Speed started to shake his head, but she pouted even more, giving him the patented 'puppy eyes' look. It had worked on everyone in New York, from eager to please Adam Ross, to hard as nails Marine Mac Taylor. She had yet to test it out on Floridians, but judging by Speed's look, it worked just as well.

He sighed, throwing up his arms in defeat. 'Fine. Let me clear up upstairs, then we can go.'

She grinned, her eyes lighting up. She raced in to see Calleigh, hugged her briefly and then sped up the stairs, pulling Speed behind her.

'Jeez, the bike'll still be there in five minutes y'know,' he said, trying in vain to pull his hand free.

'Won't,' she said childishly, pulling him into the trace lab, letting his hand free so he could clear up. Shutting the microscope in the cupboard, he fumbled in his pocket for the key to his locker, bringing out the jacket and helmet, and a spare helmet for Taylor. All the evidence had been secured before he had left earlier, so they were both ready to go.

They left the Crime Lab, Speed nodding a greeting to some of the various cops, CSI's and lab techs heading inside the building. One of them, a tall, skinny Asian guy treated Taylor to a blindingly white smile, showing off two rows of perfectly white teeth. 'Down, boy,' laughed Speed, bumping fists with him. 'Taylor, this is James Wong, one of the slackers in Narco. Jimmy, this is Taylor. Joining us from New York.'

James' black hair seemed to grow straight up, and he had a kind, handsome face. He was wearing a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie and black dress pants. His shoes shone, gleaming in the light from the rapidly setting sun.

His soft brown eyes looked her up and down, as he extended a hand for her to shake. He had a firm grip, his soft hands had immaculate nails. 'Nice to meet you, Taylor,' he said, smiling again.

'You too,' she answered. 'Do you work with CSI a lot?'

'Yeah, I suppose. I'm what you would call a liaison between departments. The lieutenant here really doesn't like us narco cops, so I'm like a peacekeeper, chosen for my incredible charm and good looks.'

'You just keep tellin' yourself that buddy. Say hey to Brayden for me,' said Speed, steering Taylor away gently.

'Will do,' he called after them, before heading back towards the crime lab, whistling.

Speed and Taylor reached the bike, and he gave her the jacket, instead rolling his shirt sleeves down. They put their helmets on and he climbed on the bike, Taylor perching behind him. She was struck with a sudden unsurity as she tentatively placed her hands on his waist. He kick started the bike, before glancing down at the hands. He grasped her wrists and pulled them so her arms were wrapped tightly around his middle, and she was resting on his back. She breathed in his spicy scent and smiled. They snapped their visors shut and roared off out of the parking lot, leaving a trail of dust hanging in the air.

--

OK, an apology to Penni here. I told her that something would happen in this chapter, and it hasn't, but it will in either the next chapter or the chapter after that, I promise! Please don't kill me…

I know this is short, but I'm trying to post more frequently during my exams so y'know.


	10. Of Moving In and Phone Calls

I did mean to get this up sooner, I really did, but things got in the way –glares at Courtney, and her annoying nagging for DOANA-

I own Taylor, but not Sam. She belongs to BEG, who also helped me with some of the finer details at the end.

Anyway, enjoy!

--

The Ducati roared through the streets of Miami, the engine purring majestically, taking them along the sea front, the ocean dyed orange from the setting sun. Taylor couldn't help but stare; it was the most beautiful thing she'd seen. Ever. Forget the New York skyline, this was the best backdrop there could be. The waves lapped at the darkening sand, and then they were past, pulling up outside her modest bungalow. Pulling the bike into the drive and killing the engine, he removed his helmet and waited for her to dismount before wheeling it around and kick starting it again. 'You uh, you want to come in for a while? It'll be kinda a mess but…' she trailed off, her cheeks tinged pink. She seemed to be looking everywhere except at him, and he took advantage of this to grin quickly.

'Sure, I'd love to,' he said, before dismounting from the Ducati, wheeling it up the drive up to the garage. 'OK if I put it in here? I don't want some gang banger lifting her while she's inside.'

She nodded, seemingly intent on digging through her many pockets for her keys, finally extracting them from a small pocket on the left leg with a mutter. 'Of course. Where else would they be?' She unlocked the garage door and it rolled up on its old school hinges.

Speed parked his bike next to a bright red 2008 model Ducati, arching one eyebrow. 'You beg for a ride on MY Ducati, and you have one sitting at home?'

Well, yeeah,' she wheedled. 'But I wanted to ride yours.' She laughed, the picture of innocence. 'Coming in then? Sometime this side of the millennium would be nice.' She opened the door and led him in, toeing her shoes off in the all, padding through to the kitchen in her socked feet. Speed followed her in, looking around at the immaculate kitchen. Everything had a place behind glass doored cabinets. She went over to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of milk. 'Coffee?' she asked, waggling the bag at him.

Speed pulled a face. 'No thanks. That stuff rots your stomach.'

She looked at him, incredulous. 'But it tastes so yummy?' she asked, rather than said.

'So does heroin, but would you take that?'

'And you know this how?' she asked. 'Hot chocolate then?'

'Uhh, yeah, sure, and I just do. I know lots of things. I'm like Google.'

She laughed quietly as she spooned the cocoa powder into two mugs, before adding milk and hot water. She stirred them, handing one mug to Speed and showing him through to the living room, where there was a pile of cardboard boxes marked, as Horatio had said 'Personal, stay the hell out'

She pulled one of them over to the empty bookcase and sat down, Indian style in front on it, pulling a knife from her pocket and slicing across the tape. Looking over at Speed, who had chosen a seat on the squashy leather sofa and was watching her curiously. 'Sorry, do you mind?' she asked him. 'I want to get moved in as soon as possible, I hate living in an untidy house.'

'No, go ahead,' he assured her. 'Want a hand?'

She smiled. 'Sure. Come give me a hand with these photo albums.'

He set his hot chocolate down on a mat and moved to sit next to her, companionably handing photo albums out. Occasionally she would open one and flick through them, allowing Speed to catch glimpses of her life. Sometime she would stop her, asking about a certain picture. Her prom photo was one. She wore a beautiful sleeveless floor-length petrol blue dress, gathered her left hip and sweeping down across her legs, covered in tiny transparent beads that caught the light and shimmered in the camera flash. On her feet were black, patent leather high heels. Standing next to her, an arm wrapped around her waist, yet still towering over her, even on the heels, was a tall, dark haired teen. His curly hair fell to his collar, and his blue eyes sparkled. His tux was immaculate, and his shoes shone.

She smiled slightly at the picture, as if remembering the night, or the man, Speed wasn't sure which.

She flicked through the rest of the album and put it on the shelf, before taking the next album Speed gave to her, a hot pink one with pressed flowers and ribbon stuck to the cover. 'I made this when I was fourteen,' she said, stroking the cover, before opening it to the first page. A much younger Taylor grinned out of the first page, sprawling on the grass with two teenage boys. One was the boy from the prom photo, this time wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a red polo shirt with the top buttons undone. A Ranger's ball cap was perched on his head backwards, and he had a hockey ball in his hand. The other boy had dark skin and was wearing khaki combat shorts and a white wife-beater. He had a shaved head and brown, soulful eyes, with an almost healed black eye and split lip. Taylor was wearing a red spaghetti strapped top and denim shorts. All three of them looked so innocent, unaware of the world's cruelty and hatred. She flipped the pages, and came to one of her and the dark haired guy again, sharing an intimate moment. His forehead was resting on hers, and they were looking deep into each other's eyes. She touched the photo lightly.

'Who was he?' Speed asked softly.

'He was my best friend. My first love. My family.'

'What happened?'

'We grew up. I went to college to become a CSI, he joined the academy. We drifted apart over the years, and when we met again we were just too different. I still loved him, I think I always will, but he's with Sam, and I have to accept that me and Don? We're never going to happen.'

She shut the album and placed it on the shelf carefully. There was one left in the box, and as he pulled it out, she took it off him wordlessly and stared at the cover. 'Markus Rydell' was embossed on it. 'Who's Markus?' Speed asked quietly, against his better judgement. It was none of his business, but he asked anyway. He couldn't help himself.

'Markus is a part of my past that I'm not ready to face yet,' she said, before smiling brightly, masking the pain and hurt in her eyes. 'Next box?'

'Sure,' he said, and they chose a box at random. This one contained her saxophone, packaged tightly in Styrofoam packing peanuts, along with the stand. 'This lives in my room!' she said happily, leading the way. It was one of the rooms she hadn't looked in, having slept on the couch the night before.

The room was done in deep red, with pine furnishings. The king sized bed stood in the centre of the wall covered in scarlet satin sheets, and there were two huge wardrobes along one wall. Along the other was her dressing table, which had a small reading lamp on the corner. There was plenty of room in the corner for her saxophone, and the guitar she ran to find in one of the boxes. 'You like music, I take it?' said Speed while they were taking a break. He was making fresh hot chocolate, both cups having been emptied long ago. He was referring to the fourth box unpacked, which contained hundreds of CD's and the room meant to be a study, which contained a grand piano. 'I don't know how he got it in and I don't wanna know,' she had declared upon finding it.

'MacGyver ain't got shit on you, does he?' she teased, running a hand through her long hair. 'You feel like detecting me a hairbrush? The one from my suitcase has gone AWOL on me.'

He rolled his eyes before handing her the hot chocolate and disappearing, presumably to find a brush. He returned with said brush in one hand and a large picture frame in the other. 'I didn't mean to be nosy, but I found this and it's signed by you, isn't it? Did you draw this?'

He handed her the brush and propped the frame up on the table. It was a portrait of a family. Mother, father and child. 'Yeah, that's one of mine. Don, Sam and their son Thomas. That's just a print though, I gave them the original.'

'So, you can draw like this, and you're living on a CSI's salary because?'

She laughed, and began brushing her hair, the auburn waterfall shimmering almost down to her waist. 'Because I like knowing I earned my money by helping someone.'

'Good answer. Do you have any more?'

'Sure, in my sketchbooks. God knows which box they're in,' she finished brushing her hair and dropped the brush on the counter. She sipped at her hot chocolate, heading back into the living room. 'Come on, there's only a couple of boxes left. I wanna get done tonight.'

He put the frame down and retrieved his mug from the counter, following her into the living room. He looked around properly for the first time. The living room boasted a monochrome effect, the walls and ceiling were white, and with the black shag carpet that Speed's feet sank into while he walked and the black leather couch, the room was simple yet classy. Light came from the silver light fixtures and the table they left their hot chocolates on was glass. The bookcase they were currently piling books onto was mahogany, and the books seemed to be random, everything from forensic techniques and journals to James Patterson to Laurell K Hamilton and Kelley Armstrong, with a few Dean Koontz and a Victoria Hislop novel tucked in between _To Kill A Mockingbird_ and _1984_.

The last box they opened was Taylor's sketchbooks, at least a dozen of them. She put them on the second off bottom shelf, above the photo albums. Speed flicked through one. It contained various scenes, mostly New York, the skyline, Central Park in all weathers and seasons, Madison Square Garden and a bird's eye view of the city that must have come from her apartment window. There were also pictures of people, the photo's she had used for reference paper clipped to the page in corners. Right at the end of the book was a hauntingly beautiful sketch. It was a single flower petal floating in a puddle. It was done mostly in grayscale, apart from the petal, which was a deep, sky blue, painted in water-colours.

'This is breathtaking,' he said, looking up from the picture. She was watching him, seemingly gauging his reaction.

'You really mean that?' she asked, taking another sip of hot chocolate.

'Sure I do,' he said, smiling. 'I may not be the most reliable person in the world, but if I'm nothing if not honest.'

She smiled back, genuinely this time, her eyes full of warmth.

'Can I uh, can I take this?' he asked, holding the picture up.

'Yeah, sure, take it.' she said, distracted as her cell began to ring from where she had left it in the kitchen. She hurried through to get it, checking the call ID, praying it was Derek. She loved him, but she didn't want to talk about Markus to him, not tonight, and if she spoke to him, he would know something was up. Luckily, the call ID read SAM.

She returned to the living room, apologizing to Speed, but she had to take this or Sam would turn up at the house with the A-Team, or something equally impressive if she didn't answer, thinking something was up.

'That's fine, seriously, I should be going anyway.'

'Thanks for the help,' she said, sliding her cell phone up to answer it.

Hey Sam, give me two minutes, I'm just showing someone out.'

She walked with him to the door, he walked over to the garage, pausing just before he went in. 'You want to go out for a drink sometime? Tomorrow night maybe?'

'I'd love to,' she said, waving him off as he zoomed up the road on his Ducati. 'Sorry Sam, I'm good to talk now. How was the scan?'

'Suicidally boring. I was contemplating hanging myself with the hospital gown. I'm blaming Flack for all this.'

'You know, it takes two people to make a baby, and I know that you enjoy the practice, and that you forgot about the condom, so really, it's both your faults.'

There was silence on the other end of the line. 'I hate it when you use your logic against me, in my weakened state,' whined Sam, sounding very uncomfortable.

'Sam, you OK?'

'Uh, I don't know…' said Sam. 'I don't think so…'

'Why, what's the matter?' asked Taylor. She was starting to panic a little bit. After Thomas, the doctors had told Sam that anything could happen, even this late in the pregnancy.

'Uhh, I think my water just broke.'

--

Well, that's it for now. I'll try and get the next chapter up ASAP, but I have 2 muses vying for my attention at the minute, so it may take a little time.


	11. Of cops and robbers

I own Taylor and Brayden. That's it. Sam Flack has been lent to me by BEG, so a massive thanks to her!

Brayden is played by James Marsden.

--

Taylor stopped collecting the dirty mugs from her and Speed and there was silence as she struggled to process what Sam had just announced. Then it hit her. Sam was going into labour _now. _'Sam, is anyone there with you?'

'No, it's just me.' Taylor could hear the strain in her voice, and knew she was starting to panic.

'OK, OK, calm down Sammie.' The use of her nickname seemed to calm her, and her breathing slowed. 'Sam, I'm gonna have to call Flack, OK? I'm not going anywhere, I'll keep you on the line. OK?'

'OK,' she said, working hard to keep her breathing under control.

Taylor tears into the kitchen where her landline is set up. Wrenching the phone from its cradle, she dialed a memorized number hurriedly. 'Flack.'

'Donald Flack, you get your ass to the hospital right now.'

'Wait, what? Taylor?'

'Your wife is going into labour, get down there now!' she almost shouted down the phone. She loved Flack but Christ he was dense sometimes. She put the phone down, lifting her cell up to her ear again. She could hear voices in the background. '_Ma'am, you need to hang up.' _That was probably a doctor, or a nurse. '_No. My best friend is on the other end, and there is no one else around, so no, I'm not fucking hanging up.' _That was definitely Sam, her Irish temper showing through in stress. Rummaging through her bags, she finds her Bluetooth earpiece she uses when she's on her bike, and clips it to her ear, stowing the cell in her backpack that she hadn't unpacked yet. Grabbing it, she heads out of the front door and into the garage. 'Sam, Sam, I have to go, but don't worry, I'm getting a flight straight up, don't you dare have those babies before I get there.'

'I'll have them when I bloody well want to,' came the reply, and Taylor smiled. 'You'll be just fine. Flack's on his way. I'll see you soon.' She hung up and dialed Horatio's number as she climbed onto the bike, pulling her jacket and helmet on.

'H, I've gotta go to New York for a day or two. My friend's in labour. Can you manage without me?'

She could hear amusement in his voice and music in the background. 'We'll do just fine Taylor. Enjoy your brief respite before you start work. You can make it up when you get back.'

'Thanks, Horatio. See you in a few.'

He hung up with a click and she fired up the bike, roaring down the street back to the airport she had left only twenty four hours ago. 'Well done Sam,' she muttered. 'You couldn't have had them yesterday? Save me the journey?' She rolled her eyes and twisted the throttle, feeling the bike growl beneath her. The speed inched up as she raced to catch the soonest plane she could.

--

She skidded to a halt outside the airport, running inside with her jacket and helmet still on. She pulled the helmet off and ran to a bored looking ticket seller with no queue. 'I need a ticket to New York, the soonest flight you've got.'

She pulled up the screen, seeming to take years. Taylor was practically hopping from one foot to the other. 'We have a flight leaving in half an hour. They're boarding now, it'll cost extra for the lateness of the booking.'

'That's OK, that's fine,' she said distractedly, tossing her card at the woman. After rushing through check-in and boarding, she finally made it onto the plane. 'And I didn't even have to flash my badge,' she murmured, sinking into the surprisingly comfortable seat. This simple statement earned her a look of barely disguised contempt from the man sitting next to her, and a friendly smile from the man past him. He was wearing an expensive looking suit with an ice blue tie that matched his eyes perfectly. His curly hair was long along to reach the collar of his suit at the back, curling across his forehead at the front. As he reached forward to shake her hand, she noticed a gun and a badge. 'Detective Brayden Summers. MDPD. Nice to see a fellow badge.'

'Taylor Mason, MDPD, just transferred from NYPD. Likewise.' They shook hands over the man sitting between them. He snorted derisively, turning his head to look out of the window. It was them she noticed the handcuffs attaching him to both the chair and Brayden. 'Witness transfer?' she asked.

'Nope. Suspect jurisdiction transfer. This mean bastard murdered three people in New York, fled to Miami, I'm takin' him back home, aren't I Tommy?'

Tommy grunted. He rolled his shoulders, and the shirt he was wearing shifted, revealing a small burn on his shoulder in the shape of an X. The exact same scar that she had on her collarbone, only if was on the side of his neck. Then something inside her clicked. Tommy, Tommy Sullivan. That was it. Tommy Sullivan, Marcus' number two.

'Hey Tommy,' she said quietly, and the tone of her voice made him turn and face her. 'Remember me?'

He looked at her face, hungry eyes roaming her features, and then they started venturing down, following the curve of her neck, following along her collarbones, lingering on the scar that rested there before travelling down again. 'Hey,' she clicked her fingers. 'My face is up here, Peeping Tom. You know who I am, or you just want a free show?'

'You're Marcus' bitch.' He jerked and his head shot forward. Brayden had just clipped him around the ear.

'You don't talk to the lady like that,' he growled in his thick Irish brogue.

'So where is he Tommy? Where's Marcus now?' Taylor asked, trying to get him to focus back on her, instead of glowering at Brayden.

'How would I know? I been on vacation in Miami, until Paddy here dragged me into lock up for somethin' I didn't do.'

'Uh-huh,' drawled Brayden, who had clearly heard it all before.

'So, where would he be, do you think?' Taylor dragged his attention back again. Tommy had always been hard work.

'I dunno. Probably running the business in Brooklyn. Surprised he didn't follow you to Miami, drag your little bitch ass back to New York.' Another headslap, this time from Taylor, who had beaten Brayden to it.

'Call me a bitch, one more time.' She challenged him, meeting his gaze evenly.

'Bitch.' He said the word quietly, and she could see Brayden putting his head in his hands.

'Look down,' she said, so quietly she had to repeat it for him. Then he felt the pain. He looked down slowly to find her clenching his crotch in an iron grip, squeezing harder and harder until tears escaped from his closed lips and a squeak escaped his lips. She let go, and his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell back against the seat, gasping for breath.

Brayden chuckled, his deep voice carrying through the whole plane. 'No one ever messed with you, did they?'

'Never gave 'em a chance,' she smiled, and pulled a book out of her bag, sinking into the world of Kelley Armstrong.

--

She looked out of the window two hours later to see New City at night. It looked different already, and snow trickled out of the sky gently. She shivered, wishing she had a warmer shirt on. Beside her Brayden was shrugging on a thick black trench coat that fell to his knees. She just fastened her leather jacket and hoped the elements were kind to her.

Half an hour later, she stormed out of the airport after saying her goodbyes to Brayden and henchman number one, tired, cold and generally pissed off. She was so busy musing on Sam that she walked into someone, sending them flying to the ground. 'Sorry,' she muttered, skirting round them.

'Spectacular reentrance into the city Red,' said a voice, thick with cold. Looking down she saw one of her oldest friends Danny sprawled across the snowy sidewalk.

--

Sorry it's short, I'll try and get a longer chapter up soon.


	12. Of boys and girls

Sorry it took so long to get this up, I'll try and be faster next time!

I own Taylor, Thomas and the twins. Sam belongs to BEG 75, who has kindly lent her to me for this fic.

--

Snow fell on the city of New York, and people hurried home from work, not wanting to get caught in the blizzard that was coming. A gentle breeze blew through the streets, twisting and turning the snow into elaborate patterns. Down by JFK airport, would be vacationers lugged suitcases into the safety and warmth of the airport lobby as outside, two old friends reconnected in a somewhat unorthodox way.

'Oops,' giggled Taylor, helping her friend up. He straightened his glasses, trying to look disapproving. 'You know,' she said conversationally as they both made their way over to the SUV Danny was using to plow through the thick New York snow. 'It's hard to look stern when you have snow in your hair.'

He grinned at that. Taylor had such a sunny personality, it was hard to stay mad for too long. Unless she was mad at you, in which case it was learn to duck while running, and make sure she can't reach her gun.

They chatted on the short drive to the hospital, Danny complaining about the weather, telling Taylor all about the new girl, Laura Wilson, who thought she was God's gift to men. She'd been there a day and had spent one hour flirting with Danny, three seconds with Flack, backing off when she saw the wedding ring, and the other 8 hours fifty nine minutes and fifty seven seconds ordering Adam about. Apparently if Sam had been there, she would have kicked her newbie ass for hitting on her husband and treating her baby brother like dirt. Taylor had to agree with her. They pulled up to the hospital in a blizzard, and made a run for the entrance, shaking off the snowflakes that had settled in their hair and on their coats. Taylor made her way up to the maternity ward while Danny went for coffee; she was dead on her feet. Glancing in every room on the way past, she finally came across Sam, looking exhausted but glowing, holding a baby tightly swaddled in a blue blanket. Sitting next to her, tears in her eyes, was Stella, holding an identical pink bundle. Sam looked up when she heard the door open and her face split in a huge grin. 'Taylor!' she squealed, instantly regretting it when the baby in her arms started squirming. Taylor crossed the room quickly, and Sam thrust the baby into her hands.

'Hey there gorgeous,' she cooed. He had wriggled one arm free and it waved around, trying to grab things. 'What's your name, handsome?' He had huge blue eyes and no hair yet, but he was still the cutest baby she'd ever seen.

'Come on Mason, you know my name,' a voice from the doorway said, and she looked up to see an ecstatic Flack, happier than she'd ever seen him, except perhaps on his wedding day.

'Wasn't asking you, lanky,' she replied, turning her attention back to her new nephew.

'Charming,' he sighed, and went to sit next to Sam, Stella vacating her seat, giving the baby back to Sam.

'She's beautiful, I could stay here all night and just watch her, but I gotta go, the lab's short staffed at the minute anyway, and I dunno what's up with Mac, but something's bugging him. Bye guys.' She kissed Flack's cheek and hugged Sam, carefully maneuvering around the baby as she hugged Taylor. 'I'll talk to you later,' she promised, before waving to the little boy in Taylor's arms.

Taylor went to sit by Sam's other side, bouncing the baby happily. He gurgled and waved his chubby arm in appreciation. 'What names did you guys decide on then?' she asked.

'Well, the one you're holding is Dylan Adam, but we haven't told Ross yet, and this little princess,' Flack lifted the baby girl up and kissed her forehead. 'is called Catherine Taylor, after you. We were hoping you'd be the godmother.'

Taylor couldn't speak past the sudden lump of emotion in her throat, and tears pricked her eyes at this simple gesture. She swallowed awkwardly, trying to find the right words. 'Guys, I'd be honoured.' This was apparently all she could handle, and she dissolved into tears, with Sam not far behind her. Flack took this as his cue to leave, putting the baby in the cot at the end of the bed. Taylor handed Dylan over to Sam and went to the end of the bed, looking at the baby who had been named after her. 'Can I?' she asked Sam, who nodded, engrossed in Dylan's baby burbling. She picked her up, swinging her gently from side to side. 'Hello Catherine,' she said, wiping her tears. 'I hope your daddy has a shotgun, cos he's gonna need one when you get older.' Catherine had huge blue eyes like her brother, and a shock of jet black hair that was definitely from Flack. 'All the boys are gonna be chasing after you, aren't they? Aren't they?' she cooed, holding the tiny little girl close to her.

Flack returned shortly, a wooden box in his hand. Taylor discovered it was half full of cigars when he gave her one. She arched her eyebrow, taking the cigar. 'Do I look like a guy?' she asked, trying to hand the cigar back.

He shrugged, turning to greet Adam, who had just arrived, flustered, clutching Thomas by the hand, with a cigar as well. She threw the cigar at Flack, hitting him squarely in the back of the head. Placing the baby in the cot again, she stalked towards him. 'Look, Donald,' she spat. 'I had about seven hours of sleep last night, and I've been up since six. DO not make jokes if you value a certain part of your anatomy, OK?'

He put his hands up in mock surrender, grinning. Adam sidled past him with Thomas. 'Let's go see Mommy, huh?'

'Mommy,' he cried, toddling over to her, looking with amazement at the bundle in her arms. 'What's dat mommy?' he asked, craning his neck to try and see. Adam helped him onto the edge of the bed and he peered into the face of his new, sleeping baby brother. He gasped in awe, and turned back to Adam, his eyes shining. 'Uncle Nutty, look a' dis,' he said, reaching out a tiny hand to touch him.

'This is your new baby brother, Dylan,' Sam said, reaching out to brush his hair off his face.

'Dylan?' he parroted, crawling down the bed to peek into the cot at the end at Catherine, very much awake and not happy that her brother was getting all the attention.

'And this is your baby sister, Catherine,' she continued, embracing her brother. He pressed a kiss to her temple and adopted possession of Dylan.

Across the room, Taylor was glaring at Flack, who was still laughing. She raised her eyebrows and took a step forward, almost knocking Danny over for the second time that night. He came in with coffee, which she took off him immediately and drank, her confrontational mood disappearing as soon as it had come on. 'Seriously though, I'm proud of ya, Duck,' she laughed, nudging him in the arm. 'Now let's go see the ducklings.'

--

OK, it's a shorter chapter, but I wanted to end it there. Next chapter, Taylor's spending some downtime in New York with the twins, before someone from her past comes crashing into her future.


	13. Of past and future Thomases

Thanks for the reviews last chapter!

Once again, I own Taylor, the Flack children and the unnamed scumbag. That's it. Sam belongs to the fab BEG 75, who has very kindly lent her to me. I can only hope I have done her justice so far and continue to keep her in character. Anyone else belongs to people much richer than me, so please don't sue. I'm not worth the bother.

A/N: The stuff about the Iraq war may not be completely accurate, I'm using a combination of Wikipedia and BBC news, but I'm doing the best I can.

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to a very dear friend of mine. Penni has been going through some really heavy stuff lately, and still she finds time to talk me down from my trivial ledges. She's an amazing friend, who doesn't deserve what's going on at the minute. She's always been there for me, and I can only hope that I can be there for her in some small way in the coming months.

--

The atmosphere in the hospital room was amazingly peaceful for the amount of people in it. Someone had put tinsel up, draping it over the bed frame and hospital equipment, and easy, simple small talk filled the room. Sitting in her bed, Sam cradled baby Dylan in her arms, dropping kisses onto his bald head and on his curious face and he waved his arms wildly, drawing attention to himself, 'just like his mommy' laughed Taylor, perched on the end of the bed entertaining Thomas, who had taken to his new siblings faster than fast can be. Flack was sitting in the chair to the right of Sam's bed, one hand on his lap, the other in his wife's hair, gently stroking the back of her head with his thumb. Catherine was being passed around the room, reveling in her new found family, large as it was. Currently she was tucked into the arms of Mac, who had finally come off shift, letting the night shift have control of the lab, something he deigned to do only rarely.

It had only been about forty eight hours since she's last seen Mac, but Taylor could see that there was something different. His insomnia had been getting better since the 333 stalker had been caught, but judging from the huge purple bags under his eyes, something had sprung up again. She would put money on it being nerves, due to the impending date with Stella in five days time. Stella had grabbed Taylor away before he arrived and they had had a hushed conversation together about it, which consisted mostly of Taylor reassuring Stella that everything would be fine, which outfit to wear and a promise from Stella to spill the beans on everything the morning after.

They were pulled apart by the arrival of an old friend. Derek Morgan, although not as close as he had once been, was one of her oldest friends, him, Taylor and Flack presenting a united front from the age of thirteen. They had been there for each other more times than they could count, and when he moved to Chicago countless tears had been spilt by Taylor. They kept in touch, which was how Taylor knew he was now working for the FBI, in the prestigious BAU. It was busy work; he rarely took a day off, therefore surprising Taylor when she was grabbed from behind, lifted off the ground, leaving Stella shocked and speechless. Strong arms encircling her waist, yanking her into an equally strong chest, and she was enveloped in the unique scent of her best friend outside of the Flacks.

'Dezza!' she cried, wriggling free and turning to embrace her friend properly.

'Come on girl, we're not fourteen anymore. Don't be callin' me Dezza.'

'Don't be calling me girl then, Der-ek,' she laughed, pronouncing his name carefully.

He chuckled in his deep voice, turning to introduce his team members. They were in New York for a case, and when he'd heard from Flack, he'd come straight to the hospital to congratulate him. Taylor and Stella shook hands with them all, Stella smiling shyly at the solemn Aaron Hotchner. Taylor however was more intrigued by Spencer Reid, a well known genius. They immediately fell into easy chatter about profiling techniques, Taylor herself having majored in forensic psychology, before turning her attention to blood spatter analysis. The group of them strolled up the maternity ward, bumping into Flack, on another coffee run. His face was plastered with a huge grin, and as he stood outside the room talking to Morgan and the team, he kept casting glances back into the room, glances where you didn't need to be a profiler or close friend to see the love and adoration in his eyes whenever he looked at Sam or his children. Eventually Spencer, Aaron and the rest of the team tactfully excused themselves on the pretense of getting back to the hotel. Flack led Derek into the room, introducing him to Sam and his children.

'Derek Morgan,' Taylor announced, grinning. 'Meet the ducklings.'

Flack rolled his eyes, hoisting Thomas up in his arms. He had wandered over when the three friends entered the room, curious about this strange new person. 'Who dat, Daddy?' he asked, chocolate smeared on his face and hands from the Reese's Fastbreak he had just devoured. He reached a hand out to Derek, patting him on the cheek with a messy hand.

'This is Daddy's friend Derek,' Flack explained, moving him out of arm's reach.

'Dek?' he asked, grabbing wildly at the air, grinning when Derek picked him up out of Flack's arms.

'Hey there big guy,' he said, holding him with one arm. 'What's your name then?'

'Thomas. I'm this many years old,' he burbled, holding up two sticky fingers.

Derek smiled, a sad smile. He looked at Flack, who was no longer paying attention, watching his wife coo at his sleeping daughter. It didn't seem to matter to her that Catherine wasn't listening, she kept the conversation going nonstop. Taylor had drifted over to the cot, where Dylan lay, watching the ceiling intently. He already had the Flack look down. She put her hand into the cot, stroking his face. He was completely still, blue eyes gazing into green ones. She idly thought about her chances of making it back to Miami before they realised she'd taken Dylan with her. Not likely, she conceded, remembering Sam just after Thomas was born, screaming blue murder at the nurse that had tried to get Sam to rest while they took Thomas for a checkup, to make sure everything was OK and that he was perfectly healthy.

Derek nudged Flack with the arm not holding Thomas. 'You named him after your brother? I thought you guys didn't get on?'

'We made up, about six months before this Thomas was born, just before he got sent out to Iraq. It was just a routine thing; he was on patrol in the West Bank City of Jenin when an Israeli tank opened fire on him and his platoon. He was killed instantly. He never got to meet his nephew, and he was so excited about being an uncle. When we found out it was a boy, Sam insisted on Thomas, and I agreed.' Flack's azure eyes shone with unshed tears, and Derek clapped his free hand on his shoulder.

'Come on, man, this is a happy day. Your wife just gave birth to two beautiful babies; you should be celebrating for them. Now then, what's this gorgeous lady called?' Derek said, moving over to Sam, switching seamlessly from concerned friend to ladies man, smiling his brilliant smile at Sam, who grinned right back. They chatted about common things, Taylor joining in, having removed Dylan from the cot completely, cradling him carefully.

Flack surveyed the scene, a smile playing on his lips. His two oldest friends, the woman he loved more than anything, and his three beautiful children. What more could a guy ask for?

--

I hope you liked this, it took me a while to write. I'll try and get the next chapter up quicker!

Oh, before I forget, there's a poll up on my profile, I think you should all go vote for the stories you'd like to see next. There's everything on there, like 10 different fandoms, and a million pairings, o you'll hopefully see something you like!


	14. Of rings and Roses

Thanks for the reviews last chapter guys!

Now then, prepare for a long sappy A/N. It's my one year landmark on here tomorrow, and I've decided to make a big deal of it, so there's some people I want to thank, for without them I wouldn't be where I am today.

Courtney, you've been my muse for the past year, and I've wanted to hug you and strangle you in equal parts. If it hadn't been for you, I probably would have gotten past the hate for some of my earlier work, and it's because of you that I've had the courage to post most of my fics, good or bad.

Mary, song downloader, vampire lover, there's so many ways to describe you, but I think the best word is AWESOME. Your little Huddy obsession is hilarious, and if it hadn't been for this site, we wouldn't have met.

Kristin, you've been a fab friend, we've had many laughs while IMing, be it the stupid innuendoey typo, or videos of Flack and his amazing facial expressions. Thanks for letting me borrow your name in this chapter!

Penni, I know I mentioned this in the past chapter, but you really are a saint. You're going through something no one should ever have to, and you're still standing. You're one of the strongest people I know, and I count myself so lucky to have you as a friend.

Laura, you're a fairly new introduction to my life on here, but we always have a laugh, and you are my fellow James Marsden appreciator lol. You always give great reviews, and your writing always leaves me wanting more.

Xee, we love to bounce ideas off each other, and some of the best ideas I've had have come from you, and some of the craziest. We talk about the most random things, and I love that, so here's to many more bouncy ideas and random conversations!

--

Dan Cooper frowned as he surveyed the chaos in front of him. The local mall was awash with shoppers, all rushing for a bargain in the after holiday sales. With a longing glance outside at the empty street, the sun shining brightly, a gentle breeze wafting in through the open door, he stowed his sunglasses in his pocket and headed for the jewelers.

The owner of a store was a tall, thin man with an impeccable black suit. His shirt and tie were mauve, as was the neatly folded handkerchief in his breast pocket. His shoes had been shined so much they were reflecting the overhead lights, blinding Cooper when he caught them out of the corner of his eye. Perusing the rings, his eye was drawn to one ring in particular. It was simple, made of white gold, with a single diamond set in the centre. It was beautiful and, more importantly, it was Kristin.

He'd had girlfriends before Kristin, but none of them had been as amazingly caring, friendly or loving as his gorgeous fiancée. He joked that the thing he had noticed first about her had been the flowing tattoo running across her back, from one hip the other, something he had noticed one day when she bent down to pick a fresh bag of coffee from under the counter, but really, he had been drawn to her smile. She had small, even, white teeth, and her dazzling smile had seemed to expand, filling his vision until all he could see were her lips, soft and pink. He'd been a goner from then, visiting the coffee shop where she worked every day, memorizing her every feature. From her large, soulful brown eyes and her shimmery blonde hair, falling down her back in soft curls to the way her hips shook as she danced across the floor to tend to another customer and the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. Dan Cooper was disgustingly and irrevocably in love, and he didn't care.

He paid for the ring and collected it in its box, forgoing a bag and slipping it into his pants pocket; he planned to propose that very night.

His stomach rumbled, and he ducked into a Starbucks, ordering a black coffee and a blueberry muffin, before proceeding to decide that he was too het up to eat, instead shredding the muffin idly with his fingers, sipping at the too hot coffee.

He watched the world go past, half paying attention to the woman in the red jacket, carrying a toddler on each hip, the man in the suit, talking into a cell phone, stress showing on his handsome face, the youth in the hoodie, glancing from side to side, watching for Big Brother.

He finished his coffee and stood up, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair and heading out into the packed mall, sliding in between an overweight woman in a too tight skirt and a gaggle of teenage girls, shrieking about somebody Bale and his relative merits.

He was almost at the door when he realised he'd forgotten his bag, the one with all his stuff in. It was under the chair at Starbucks. With a muttered curse, he turned and struggled back through the crowd. It seemed like no matter which way he was going, the crowd was against him. Fighting his way into Starbucks again, he had just reached the table, when muffled shots rang out, and the screaming started.

If it had been crazy a moment ago, now it was sheer bedlam. People were trampling over others to reach an exit, breaking windows and doors to get to the outside. Cooper's instincts were screaming at his to run, but he edged towards the door of Starbucks, now empty and peered around, seeing the ground littered with bodies. One body stirred, and Cooper realised the kid was still alive. Creeping out of the door, he glanced around, trying to spot the shooter. Once he was closer, he saw that the kid was one of the teenage girls from before, swooning over movie stars no longer a priority. Red flooded over her light blue pants, and he could tell she'd been shot in the leg. No way was she going to get herself out of there under her own steam. He grabbed his cell, dialing the first person he thought of that might be able to help. He called Eric.

'Come on, answer the shitting phone,' he growled, reaching the girl and crouching beside her, using one hand to apply pressure to the wound.

'Coop!' Eric's jovial tone was not appreciated at this point, and it was all he could do to not call Eric every name under the sun and hang up on him.

'Delko,' he spat out, through gritted teeth. 'There's been a shooting at the mall. You need to get here NOW. People are dead and dying, and there is a psychopath with a gun somewhere, I don't know where.'

When Eric spoke again, his lighthearted voice was gone. It was purely business now. 'OK Dan, calm down, and tell me again. Where are you?'

'Dadeland Mall, the south entrance. I can see at least five bodies, I don't know if they're alive. One girl's been shot in the leg, I don't know how much longer she can last.'

'OK, we're on the way.' Eric hung up, and Cooper turned his attention back to the dying girl in front of him. His blood ran cold as he saw the blood spurting out of the wound in her thigh. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops and refastening it around her leg, above the gunshot wound. Her breathing was erratic, she was going into shock. Cooper knew he had to do something to calm her down.

With a shaking hand he smoothed the hair off her face, talking to her in a calming tone. 'Hey there. It's OK, I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Dan, I'm with the Miami Dade Police.' Technically true, he thought. 'What's your name?'

'Rose,' she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering, giving Cooper glimpses of brilliant blue eyes.

'Rose? That's a pretty name, stay with me, Rose, come on baby, stay with me.' He could hear sirens in the background, and knew that this would alert the shooter. He prayed they would be on time. Rose's eyelids closed, and they didn't open. He fumbled for a pulse, and found one, weak and thread, but still there. 'Come on, Rose, wake up, open those beautiful eyes for me. Rose? Rose?'

Under his fingertips the pulse slowed, until it stopped, and her head lolled back eyes, slipping half open, gazing at the ceiling sightlessly. He could hear footsteps behind him, but whether it was the cops or the shooter, he didn't know.

All he could think of was Rose, so alive when he had passed her before, laughing and joking with her friends, and now lying dead on the grubby floor of a Miami mall, never to laugh again, never to see her friends. None of these people would. The footsteps stopped beside him, and he turned his tear streaked face up to look them in the eye, and deal with the consequences, whatever they may be.

--

Sorry it's so short, but I wanted a cliffie, so hopefully this'll do until next chapter.

Another note, I'm changing my Penname to ParaCaerOuVoar, so when you see updates from them, it's just me.


	15. Of old memories and future thoughts

Oh my god, you guys rock! Thanks for helping me get to 50 reviews! Next step, the 100 review mark xD

Sorry it's been so long updating, I kinda fell out with my TM muse due to all the hate on the NY board. I know TM is a Miami story, but some of the stuff out there caused me to have a good hard look at FF and the character of Taylor. However, I've decided to screw the haters and keep writing.

Also, if anyone knows yellow etc personally, please point them this way so they can try me. Cos really, I can't wait. Bring it.

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to a real life Thomas. He left us five years ago and I still miss him as if it were yesterday. Never has there been someone who could cheer me up faster or make me laugh louder.

--

Taylor, Flack, Derek and Sam talked until late that night, Thomas, Catherine and Dylan having succumbed to sleep early in the evening. Finally, when Sam's eyelids started drooping, they called it a night, Flack hoisting his son into strong arms, cradling him gently. Taylor watched silently as she placed Dylan back in the cot at the end of the bed, followed by Catherine, snoring gently. Flack kissed his wife goodnight and was ready to slump on the sofa to sleep until she sleepily insisted he go home. 'I'll be fine,' she murmured, rolling onto her side, curling up into a ball, like she always did.

After a half hearted argument which involved Derek siding with Sam and Taylor with Flack, Flack eventually conceded and slunk out of the room, Thomas resting on one hip. The three friends walked down the hallway companionably, catching up on everything that had happened since they had last met up, over three years ago. Had it been that long? Taylor marveled. Three years since Markus happened to her, three years since she told him where to stick it, three years since he had shown his true colours. But she didn't want to think about that tonight. Tonight she just wanted to be with her friends.

'Just like old times, huh Dez?' Taylor started the conversation, nudging him.

'Yup. Just like old times. Duck still can't keep it in his pants.' He laughed, dodging a swipe from Flack. 'Seriously man, I'm proud of you,' he continued, now a safe distance away. 'I always knew you'd make a great Dad.'

'Yeah, you're not too shabby according to Sam,' added Taylor, grinning. 'Have you learned to cook yet?' she asked, referring to a disastrous incident in their youth, involving a call to 911 and a visit to the burns unit at the hospital.

'Hit me where it hurts why don'tcha?' Flack groaned in mock pain, his eyes betraying his true emotions, the blue orbs sparkling. 'Besides, what about you? What's this I hear about Mr Tall-Dark-and-Handsome?'

'What's that about me?' Derek chipped in, cursing as his cell buzzed. 'Hang on a sec guys.'

He peeled off to answer it as Taylor turned to head back to Sam's room, muttering angrily. 'I'm gonna kill her, then bring her back, then kill her again.'

Flack grabbed for her, struggling to juggle baby and woman. 'I'm serious Taylor. Who is this guy?'

She stopped fighting, knowing he was serious when he used her full name, not Tay or Mason. 'He's no-one,' she muttered, turning salmon pink.

'Just like Markus was no-one?' Flack prompted gently. He dropped one huge hand onto her shoulder, squeezing gently, as an involuntary shudder ran through her at the mention of his name.

'Why do you do that?' she snapped, pulling away. 'Just when I think my life is under control, and he doesn't have a role in it anymore, you bring him up! Why can't you let me forget?' She stormed off down the corridor, Derek watching her go with concern, deep in conversation with someone apparently called 'Baby Girl'.

Flack caught up with her at the elevator, hoisting Thomas up further, he was slipping. 'Don't twist this into being my fault. It's been three years! I'm just looking out for you. You think it doesn't hurt me to see you like this? You think it doesn't tear me up inside that Markus still has a hold on you as big as this? For four days, I thought you were dead? You know what that did you me? Of course not, you never fucking asked, did you?'

Taylor was shocked into silence for the second time that day. Throughout her whole recovery, Flack had been the strong one. He'd been there for everyone, and she'd lost count of the times she had cried into his shirt, on rang him in the middle of the night, terrified that Markus was outside, breaking into her apartment. It didn't matter that his wife was four months pregnant, Taylor and Flack shared a bond that went deeper than family, one that had survived everything. But maybe that was it, she thought. He had been so busy being there for everyone else, no had been there for him. It must have been killing him, her going missing. He had been the one to find her, and she could still remember a hazy face in front of hers, grief choking his voice as he shouted for Ems, that he couldn't find a pulse, it had been him to bring her back from the coma, he had brought her home, helped her go back to how she had been before.

Flack had dropped everything for her, and what had she done for him?

She found her voice again, gripping his hand in both of hers, looking up into his face, twisted with rage and sadness. 'I'm so sorry Don. I had no idea.'

His voice was cool when he spoke again. 'No. You didn't. You know what was worse than that? Worse than not being allowed to cope with it myself? The first day you went home. Seeing you standing in the doorway, trembling, because of what that bastard did to you when he took you. He invaded your only safe haven, and no guy should ever be allowed to do that.'

Derek caught up at that point, smoothing things over quickly. Derek was good at that. He was the mellowest of the three of them, even when he was a teenager, and it was always him to get in between the two of them, calming them down, making them laugh. 'Come on guys,' he said, taking in the tear tracks on both faces, slinging an arm around Flack's wide shoulders and drawing Taylor's tiny frame in, kissing her temple. 'Happy day today, remember?'

Taylor smiled, wiping away the tears. 'Yeah, happy day, I know.'

'So, what's this I hear about a guy? You cheatin' on me again, Tay?' he teased, as they feel into step again.

'Yeah,' Flack chimed in, his voice showing no trace of the distance from before, but Taylor knew that tonight they would need to talk about what had just happened. 'Name, rank and number, Mason.'

She rolled her eyes, happy that the tension had dissipated. For now. 'OK, fine, you've beaten it out of me. His names Tim Speedle, he's a CSI and _neither _of you,' she emphasized that last phrase with pointed looks at both men. 'are to run him through the system. OK?'

'Yes ma'am,' joked Derek, ripping off a quick salute. They all laughed, and continued to the exit, joking and laughing. Outside, Derek went his own way, jogging to catch an idling cab, waving his goodbyes from the open cab window. Taylor turned and took Thomas, resting his head on her shoulder and she held onto her nephew. They walked to Flack's apartment slowly in silence, until Flack asked quietly, 'Do you think we're gonna be OK, you and me?'

Taylor hesitated, before answering the only way she could. Honestly. 'I don't know.'

--

Ok, I know it's short, but I'm slowly getting back into the rhythm of it. Hopefully, I'll have a chapter of Destiny up soon as well.

Also, check out my profile page, there's a link to my Deviantart account, which as wallpapers for some of my fics and others, for authors like BlueyedAuthor, night-star-93, Butterflies of Bauty and Laura xx

Enjoy! Please review, they will be much appreciated. Flames will be laughed at and replied to in great detail.


	16. Of goodbyes and slamming doors

Sorry it took me so long to get up guys, this chapter had me really struggling. A huge thanks to BEG for helping me out with bits!

I own nothing but Taylor etc etc

--

The short walk to Flack's house in Flushing, Queens was made in silence, listening to the sounds of the city in winter. But for Taylor, New York would never be the same again. Every noise, every shadow, she was jumping, watching her back. She was a mess, she knew that, but it wasn't like the usual stuff. It was this city. It had welcomed her with open arms over thirty years ago, and slowly ground her down until she had to get out, before the city killed her. Flack let them both in the house and disappeared upstairs to deposit Thomas in his 'big boy bed' as he called it, with its 101 Dalmatians bed sheets and pillows. He had each Dalmatian individually named, and he said goodnight to each and every one each night.

Taylor hovered in the sitting room, choosing to stand by the window instead of accepting a seat on the dark, leather sofa. She jumped as a voice came from behind her. She hadn't heard him come downstairs. 'You're just itching to get out of here, aren't you?'

With an effort, she remained facing the window. 'That's not fair, and you know it.'

'Ever since you arrived, I've been watching you look for a way out. Every step of the way, you've been trying to escape. Is it that bad?'

'You wouldn't understand,' she said simply, watching as the elderly man across the road put the garbage out before retreating into the warm comfort of his home.

'Why did you even come back? You're clearly uncomfortable here, why not go back to Miami?' The last word was said with such scorn, she whirled around, careful to stay at more than arms length, because if she didn't get her emotions under control, she was going to do something you'd regret. Later on, at least.

'You just don't get it. You didn't get it at the hospital, and you don't get it now. You know what New York is to me?'

His silence gave her the nod to carry on, and she drew a shaking breath.

'New York is Markus. New York is every painful memory I've ever had. I tried to live here, but pretty soon, I wasn't living. I was just existing. And I don't want to exist. I want to live like I used to live with you. I would every happy memory I ever had to go back to that, but I can't. So, you'll excuse me if being back in the city I almost died in makes me feel like there's a target on my back.' A tear slid down her cheek.

'Then you shouldn't have come in the first place.' His tone was harsh, but honest, and completely, utterly Flack. 'No one held a gun to your head, there isn't one there now. Just skip town again.'

'You think I wanted to leave? Think again. Do you know how much it hurt to have to say goodbye to everyone? But then, I suppose Don Flack, Super Cop, wouldn't ever run away from anything,' she spat angrily.

'Say goodbye? I found out you'd left from Sam for God's sakes! You're always preaching about me being your best friend, how it would always be Tay and Duck, dream team or whatever the fuck you joked about, but when it comes down to it, I don't even warrant a fucking goodbye!'

'It was too hard!' she screamed. 'Too fucking hard to say goodbye to you! I've known you thirty years, I couldn't just stand there and say 'I think I'll be off, write me sometime'!'

'You could have said something!' he roared, towering over her, and she shook. She had known Flack since he had been tiny, and she'd looked down at him in the playground at school, but he'd turned sixteen and sprouted to six foot plus, and now, there was no other way to say it, he scared her. Sam too. She'd confided in Taylor one evening, and while she knew he would never lay a hand on his wife or his child, there was a small part of her that thought if he was pushed far enough, he might lash out at Taylor. He must have seen the fear in her eyes, the hands shaking, because he quieted, shrinking back into himself, the rage leaving his eyes, leaving behind a slow burning anger. 'When I found out that you'd left, I went to the airport. I watched you walk into the building, and I went after you. Cos whatever reason you were leaving for, I knew it couldn't be so bad that we couldn't deal, together, like we always did.'

'See, that's the different between you and me,' she said, tears running down her face, dripping off her chin. 'I tried to deal with it together, but you were so busy convincing yourself I was gonna be fine, you never looked closer.'

She turned and walked out. Flack heard the front door close, before sinking into the sofa, head in hands. This wasn't one problem he could solve on his own. Taylor was so much more than his best friend. She was his lifeline. Or she had been. Now he had Sam, and Taylor had been pushed to the sidelines. He took a deep sigh. 'I don't think this one is gonna be an easy fixer,' he muttered to himself, before retiring to the kitchen for a drink.

--

Outside, Taylor stood in the snow, silent tears running down her face as she surveyed the house in front of her. Still dressed for Christmas, she wondered what had happened. The last time she'd looked, Flack had still been single, free and easy. Then she'd blinked, and Sam was on the scene. Not that she was resentful, she'd just gotten used to it being her and Don. She wouldn't trade his happiness for the world, him and Sam were meant to be together, but a small part of her wondered, what if? What if they had never broken up when they were teenagers? Would they have gone the distance? Flack and Sam had been through thick and thin, and made it through to the other side relatively unscathed. She didn't think her and Flack had that in them, and that was why they hadn't worked.

In the window, she saw a shadow, as Flack got up, moving into the kitchen. She wiped away the tears that still fell, disappearing into the night, hailing a taxi as soon as she was on a main road, heading for the airport. Flack was right. She didn't know why she had come. She was leaving, and she didn't know if she was coming back. Ever.

--

Well, that was waaaay too short, but meh. Hope you liked it, either way. I'll try and get the next chapter up ASAP!


	17. Of younger brothers and age old friends

Thanks for the reviews last chapter!

OK, SPN has finally made it into every aspect of my life, even TM. The conversation referencing it, just a little joke for you SPN fans to appreciate.

I own nothing but Taylor and Kyle (played by Jared Padalecki, if you're interested). Sam belongs to BEG.

--

Taylor stood outside the airport, saying goodbye to New York for the second time in as many days. She'd made a tearful call to Sam, waking her up from not so peaceful slumber, who had listened quietly, before offering some simple words. She told her to get out of New York and heal, before she even though about coming back. She told her to look at all the things Markus meant to her, and wipe them clean, a blank canvas. And finally, she told her she loved her, and that she would fly down to her soon, hopefully bringing Taylor's God-children with her.

They said their goodbyes and Taylor hung up, venturing into the airport after paying the cabbie. She stared at her feet as she walked, a sure fire way of getting knocked on your ass in this city, and sure enough, she walked face first into a very solid feeling chest, falling backwards. The only thing saving her from landing on her denim covered ass was the hand that reached out, wrapping around her forearm and yanking her back onto her feet. She swayed for a second, getting her balance back before looking up into a concerned, but incredibly familiar face, surrounded by curling chocolate hair falling into his eyes and curling down into the collar of his jacket. 'Kyle?' she asked, taking a step back. 'Whoa. When did you grow? Last time I saw you, you were about this big,' she held a hand out at shoulder height. She smiled slightly, a joke just having occurred to her. 'If you are what you eat, you clearly just went out and devoured Sam Winchester, didn't you?'

He looked at her, his hazel eyes full of confusion. 'Excuse me?'

'You know, Sam Winchester, from Supernatural? That TV show with Jensen Ackles looking particularly fine?'

'Well, I wouldn't know about that aspect of it,' he said dryly, his lips curving into the smile she knew from childhood.

'Anyway, I digress,' she continued. 'You look just like him. Only, you know, less kicked puppy, and without as many layers.'

He laughed, a surprisingly gentle sound for such a big man. 'I've missed your inane babbling, tiny.' He teased, adopting one of his brother's teen nicknames for her.

'I'm not tiny. It's not my fault you and your family are all freakishly tall human anomalies.'

'I'll have you know, I'm of average height and weight,' he said, almost like quoting from a book, or a cue card.

'Yeah, for a bear,' she muttered.

He pouted, but was unable to keep a straight face. 'So, what brings you to the airport?'

'Going home,' she said simply, and it was true enough. New York was no longer her home. It was just a city.

'Still living in that tiny apartment in Brooklyn?'

'Nope. Miami.'

He looked at her, unsure whether or not she was being serious. 'Miami?'

She nodded.

'As in, Florida, Miami?'

'Yes, well done. You've grasped the concept?' She gave him a scathing look.

'So, why'd you leave the city?'

'Too many bad memories outweighing the good ones. Where are you living now? Still out in Wisconsin?' she changed the subject clumsily, but he took it, not wanting to ask too many questions.

'You might not believe this, but just outside of Miami. Bought myself a little house.'

'Small world,' she muttered, and he agreed.

'So, you flying out there now?' he asked, and they started walking towards the check-in desk companionably.

'If I can get a ticket. Which I highly doubt at this time.'

He shrugged. 'You might get lucky.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Please. When have I ever gotten lucky?' She blushed slightly at the involuntary innuendo.

He chuckled. 'I seem to remember a few 'lottery moments', as Derek liked to call 'em between you and my little brother.'

'Jealous much?' she teased, trying to control the roiling knots in her stomach as she thought of how she and Don had left each other. Angry, and unforgiving. But at the same time, she thought it was something that had been a long time coming. She couldn't use him as her crutch forever, which was what she had been doing. Maybe this move to Miami was finally the end of her dependence. She always thought of herself as independent, but in her relationships and later her life, she's leant on first Flack, then Markus, who abused that dependency, and then Flack again, who showed her how to take baby steps into her life again. Inadvertently, her mind skipped to Tim Speedle, the handsome Miami CSI who she had invited into her home, the first near stranger in a long time. It hadn't even occurred to her not to trust him, and that was what scared her. Was it starting again? Markus had charmed and joked his way into her life until it was too late for him to leave. She had fallen for him, but he wasn't there to catch her. What if Speedle was the same? She'd survived two broken hearts, barely; she didn't think she could survive another one. The old familiar ache in her chest returned, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a while. It was like an old unwelcome friend, the first mouthful of scotch for an alcoholic, the smell of a joint for an ex druggie, it had always been there, first after her messy break up with Don and then again waking up in the hospital and knowing, remembering what Markus had done to her.

With a start, she realised that Kyle was talking to her. 'You know, I had the biggest crush on you when I was like ten,' he said, seemingly randomly.

She blinked, looking up at his honest face. Then what he just said hit her, and she began to laugh, partly cos she found that sentiment hilarious, and partly because if she didn't do something, she was going to sit on her ass and cry her eyes out, in the middle of the airport. Either way, tears were streaming from her eyes as she gasped for breath, clinging onto his bicep for support as she leant against him, just laughing. Eventually, she controlled herself and the laughs quietened to a soft chuckle as she wiped the tears away, clutching her stomach. 'It's been too long since I laughed like that,' she sighed, releasing Kyle and continuing her journey to the ticket desk.

She bought a ticket without too much fuss and due to some quick thinking by Kyle, swapped it for the seat next to Kyle. He didn't know it, but she didn't particularly want to be surrounded by a sea of people she didn't know, it would only serve in making her feel even lonelier.

She stared out of the window, keeping up with Kyle's unnecessary babbling, but her mind was elsewhere. Half of it was in New York, saying goodbye to everything for the final time, know in her heart that she would never return, not like this. The other half was in Miami, waiting for her new life to start, eager to see how things would unfold, but one thing she knew for sure. This was it. If she couldn't live in Miami, she didn't know where she could live.

For better, or for worse, she was all or nothing this time.

--

Well, that looks like the end of New York for Taylor. You know, this has gone in a completely different way than I intended it to. Oh well –shrugs- I did the best I could with what the muse gave me.


	18. AUTHORS NOTE

Ok, I have an apology to make.

I'm ending Taylor Made For Miami. It just doesn't seem t o be working for me, and these last few chapters I've been heading in a direction I didn't really want to take. I think I got too caught up in what I thought the fans wanted to see, and what was happening in New York, I was ignoring the fact that this is a CSI Miami fic.

So, I'll leave the chapters I have posted, but consider this me effectively pulling myself from the CSI fandom in general. There may be a few oneshots up and around, and I'm not discontinuing Destiny, as I think there is still some things there I can work with, but Taylor Made and me are done.

Sorry guys,

ParaCaerOuVoar **2009**


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